


Worlds Apart

by TheFaceOfAlison



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Drug Addiction, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-04-18 15:51:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 50
Words: 151,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4711646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFaceOfAlison/pseuds/TheFaceOfAlison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aisling is an Irish actor, in Georgia to film a television series. She meets a charmer called Merle, and his brother - a gruff mechanic - called Daryl. Aisling and Daryl turn each others lives upside down, but will it all turn out to have been worth it, or will they end up wishing they'd never met? </p><p>Daryl/OC AU<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Merle Dixon watched the white Cadillac SRX pull into the parking lot at the side of The Goat Tavern, absent mindedly swinging his pool cue from side to side as he waited for Fat Bobby to take his turn at the table. Not local, he noted, his interest piqued initally by the Fulton plates, but then by the three people who got out and walked towards the bar entrance.  
Two guys – one older than the other, both yuppie looking, cool types in shades - and a shorter, slim brunette. Twisting round to get a look at her as she came in the door, he let out a long slow whistle and kicked Fat Bobby's skinny, denim clad leg to get his attention.

“Lookie here, Bobby” he nodded his head in the direction of the three strangers as they approached the bar, the older of the men going in the direction of the restrooms and the younger taking out his phone to swipe his finger up and down it while waiting to be served. The girl's large green eyes looked around at her new surroundings, taking in the few midweek drinkers in the gloom before her focus landed on Merle and the slow grin creeping up and taking over his face.

He expected her to look away, like women usually did when he paid any kind of unsolicited attention towards them, but she surprised him with a small friendly smile in return. Phone guy was busy placing their order with the bartender as Merle sidled up to the girl, holding his pool cue across his body like a staff.  
“Howdy do there, Missy” he said, grinning “Your pretty face is new round here, ain't it?”

“Yep, fresh off the boat!”

“You Irish?” his eyes narrowed at the sound of her soft accent and he pursed his thin lips, staring intently at her, not giving away any indication of what he was thinking.

She nodded, not sure now whether this was going to be a good thing or a bad thing. He didn't hate Irish people, did he? Had she accidentally struck up a conversation with the biggest asshole in town?

“Woohoo!” he shouted, grabbing Fat Bobby's bony shoulder “Bobby, we got ourselves a little Irish fairy queen here! Hey, give her your cue, I wanna work on Irish American relations!”

Bobby shrugged and held his cue out to the girl, who laughed, then walked off to join some men at the bar. He was well used to Merle by now.

“Aisling!” one of the men who came in with her called over from a table not too far away. He held up her beer and she nodded over. “I'll be over in a bit Jamie, just going to whip this old fella's arse at pool.”

Merle guffawed loudly, slapping his thigh before holding out his hand to her “Well, 'Ash-leeen', it's a pleasure. Name's Merle, and I gotta warn you this old man's been pocketing his balls since before you was born.” She shook his hand and laughed, and they both got into the game.

“So, what brings you to Goat Rock, sweetheart” he asked, leaning over the table and taking a shot, easily potting the ball.

“Work. I'm here for a few months.”

“Oh yeah? What kinda thing you do?” Merle's quick brain was trying to figure out what it was that she did for a living, but was stumped. There were no banks or other fancy businesses in Goat Rock, that he knew of. Could be the school, maybe, but why would they get a teacher in from overseas? Besides, she didn't look the type. She looked like a model, maybe, but probably too short. His friend Greg had went to school with a girl who became a model, and as he recalled from their conversations she was almost six feet tall. This chick was about 5'5” and was the kind of edgy looking cool girl he'd seen in bars in Atlanta, hanging out with the arty crowd.

“I'm an actress. We're filming a TV show on location out the road.” She got two balls potted in quick succession while Merle nodded and thought about what she'd said.

“Would I have seen you in anything?” He stared at her face, scrolling back through the naked women he had stored from the skin flicks in his memory bank.

“Probably not. Unless you're into British historical drama, and… I'm going to take a wild stab in the dark here and guess you aren't.”

“You're mighty right, sweetheart.” he laughed, heartily “If it ain't porn or it ain't got bikes in it, I probably won't have seen it.”

She moved around the table, lining up another shot. “What about you, Merle? What do you do when you aren't playing pool?”

“Oh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that”. Truth was, apart from fixing up the occasional bike, hunting, and buying, selling and consuming drugs, Merle didn't do that much. He'd tried the military life, and that ended with another stint behind bars, so he'd settled into living this life.

She was good at pool, Merle had to admit to himself, but he still won of course and Aisling shook his hand again in gracious defeat. “I'm going to head over to those two over there now” she put the cue down on the table and pointed over to the two men who had been watching, amused “Thanks for the game Merle.”

“My pleasure, lil' lady.” He lifted his cap off his head a second and bowed briefly in jest, before they both went back to their respective company.

“Who the fuck is that?” Jamie asked, pushing her beer over the table towards her when she sat down on the seat beside him. “That, gentlemen, was 'Merrrrle'” she said, mimicking his accent. “He seems a laugh!” “He seems like a real redneck dickhead to me” muttered Stuart, the older camera man.

The three of them talked about their impressions of the town so far. “Bit of a shithole” Jamie, the younger man mused. Stuart nodded, but Aisling thought it had a kind of gritty charm. Jamie snorted “Trust Little Miss Sunshine here to see the good in everything”.

As they finished their drinks and got up to leave, Aisling glanced over to the door and saw a man walk in and pause for a second, squinting into the relative darkness as he looked around the bar, before making his way over to Merle, taking the seat beside him. She put her jacket on and didn't notice as he looked over at her a couple of times, his blue eyes taking in her full lips, long straight dark brown hair, and her long, slender legs. He was about to ask Merle who she was when she began walking over, and Merle stood up and took her small pale hand in his giant, sun and life-toughened one “Next time, Merle, I'll beat you. You'll see.” Her big green eyes were as bright as her smile, and the man felt a slight tightening in his stomach as he watched her talk with his brother.

“Why, that's fightin' talk there, sweetheart, but ol' Merle's gonna hold you to it!” she smiled and gave him a little wiggle of her fingers by way of a wave, and nodded her head at the well built, blue eyed man who'd come in and sat beside him, before leaving with Jamie and Stuart.

 

“Who was that?”

“That, lil' brother, was 'Ash-leeeen'” he emphasised her name “and if I was five years younger I'd be all over that fine piece of ass”. His brother snorted “Fifteen years younger, maybe you could try...”

“What's the matter, Darylina, you got a mind to try out for some Lucky Charms yourself?” Merle laughed into his beer, nudging Bobby in the ribs to make sure he had an appreciative audience for his teasing.

“Pfft, shut up Merle. Girls like that don't want nothin' to do with the likes of us.” He took a swig from his beer bottle and glanced out at Aisling getting into the big white Cadillac. “How'd you know her anyway?” He was curious, and hated himself for asking but he knew was going to get teased again for showing any interest in the first place, so he may as well satisfy his curiosity while he was at it. Girls like her didn't exist in Goat Rock, let alone hang out with his big brother.

“She was just keeping me company, ain't that right Bobby? We had a little pool match, told me all about herself.”

“Like what? She on vacation or something?” Daryl couldn't imagine anyone ever wanting to come to Goat Rock on vacation, but seeing as how he'd never been on vacation before he probably wasn't an expert on great destinations. Goat Rock could be on the best vacation destination list of the year, for all he knew.

Bobby sniggered beside Merle “Why you so interested, Daryl? Ain't like you'd ever do anything 'bout it?”

Daryl shot a glare at Bobby, who gave a small laugh and went back to his beer. “She's an actress, baby brother. Over here making some tv show,” he put his empty bottle up on the bar “and she's way too classy for a Dixon, so let's get on home and get us something to eat. I'm starvin'.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I've been posting this story over on FF, but as it's so unreliable I've decided to post here also. This is my first Fic, and I have published 21 chapters on FF so far. I'll post them all here, and will update on both sites (presuming FF is ever up again!).
> 
> I made some small edits to errors after I'd published each chapter, but I can't select the work from FF to copy it, so there may be a couple of small errors remaining here - apologies if I've missed any.


	2. Chapter 2

“What's that corn muffin like, Andy?” Aisling pointed at the barely touched muffin on her co-star's plate, still chewing on some of her pulled pork. “Take it” he pushed it across the table towards her, leaning back in the diner booth and groaning. “How can you even eat? It's so hot!” he grumbled, wiping his hands over his face and into his long dark wavy hair, wiping at the thin sheen of sweat that had been ever present since they'd landed at Atlanta a few days ago. He couldn't understand how people could live, walk about… function in this humidity.

 

Aisling looked across at him as she pulled a chunk of the muffin off and popped it into her mouth, chewing and letting out a small appreciative moan.

“You'll get used to it” she said, rubbing his hand gently. His brown eyes, usually clear and focused, looked tired and his brow was creased in a frown.

Andy had been partying a lot, even by Aisling's standards, in the weeks prior to their leaving London for Georgia. She'd heard stories about his drug use, but he had never mentioned anything which allowed her a window to question if he was looking after himself, and they weren't close enough for her to just blurt it out so she decided to keep an eye on him. Aside from the effect too much of the good life would have on his health, it could affect his work, and their on-set relationship.

 

“You're probably right” he sighed, looking at Aisling's face, which looked as unperturbed by the heat as it did by most other things. How did she manage to stay fresh looking and pretty in this armpit of a place? “I'm going to head back to my place and see if I can get some sleep… might do me good.”

 

“I'm going to stay here, relax a bit, if that's ok?”

 

“No problem, Ash. Enjoy, I'll see you later.” He rubbed his hand on her head, rumpling her hair and earning a swat of her hand and stepped away from the table, passing two men entering the diner as he left.

 

“Well, if it ain't my favourite Irish colleen! How are you sweetheart? Mind if we sit with you?” Merle sat down opposite Aisling without waiting for an answer, and patted the red vinyl bench beside him for his brother to join them.

 

Daryl had seen Aisling as soon as they'd come through the door, noticing the guy with her mess up her hair before he left. Was he her boyfriend, he wondered? _Asshole looks like he's tryin' to be a rock star or something, with that fuckin' girlie hair of his._

 

“Merle! Hi!” she said, surprised, through another mouthful of corn muffin, putting her hand over her face to stop herself spraying crumbs everywhere and hopefully stop her looking any more like a greedy pig than she already did. Aisling's appetite was a great source of fun for her friends, but she felt ashamed when strangers saw the disgusting quantity of food she was able to shovel into her face.

Daryl sat down heavily in the booth and picked up the menu, pretending to study it so that Merle and Aisling could talk and he could be invisible.

 

Aisling looked at the man she'd seen join Merle in the bar last night, his blue eyes staring at the menu as he chewed on his thumb nail, then at Merle who had a sudden burst of good manners and introduced them. “Aisling, this is my baby brother Daryl. Daryl, this is Aisling, the hot chick from the bar.”

No ' _Darlyina_ ', at least… that was something to be thankful for. Merle usually didn't waste much time in belittling his brother, but for whatever reason he seemed to be on his best behavior.

 

“Pleased to meet you, Daryl.” Aisling smiled, warmly, and Daryl gave a small nod in reply. He felt momentarily ashamed of his manners, but then brushed it off and went back to looking at the menu. _Why the hell should I care what this chick thinks of me?_

 

The waitress appeared beside them, and as Merle gave his order Aisling stole a glance at Daryl. He was good looking, now she was able to see him properly, in the light. Her last boyfriend Sébastien had been almost feminine looking, but this man was rugged and masculine. His arms bulged from the sleeves of his t-shirt and the image of them wrapped around her body appeared unexpected and unwelcome in her mind. Blaming the heat, she looked away quickly, busying herself with dipping her fries in ketchup, as the waitress waited for Daryl's order. “You need the menu with the pictures in it, little brother?” Merle teased.

 

“Shut up, Merle. I'll have a burger, fries and a coke.” His voice was gruff, gravely, with the same Southern twang as his brother.

 

Merle wasted no time in asking Aisling about the tv show. He'd wondered aloud to Daryl the night before if she got naked in it, so he knew his older brother was itching to find out, fishing for that information. Daryl had heard a couple of guys at work mention filming going on at the old plantation, but as he had zero interest in most tv shows he had zoned out. Now he found a small part of his brain wishing he'd listened in and found out more about it.

 

“It's about some Irish people who emigrate to England at the time of the famine,” she explained, eating her fries as she spoke “and in this series they go to the States and get caught up in the Civil War. Lots of fighting and guns!” Her soft, musical voice had both brothers captivated.

 

“I'm gonna cut to the chase here, sugartits… any hot and heavy action? Y'know, knockin' the boots before the men go off to war?” Merle emphasized his point by making a circle with the thumb and index finger of his right hand, poking the index finger of his left hand in and out of it, waggling his eyebrows and flicking his tongue in and out.

 

Aisling half snorted, half spluttered on the sip of water she had just taken and Daryl dug Merle angrily in the ribs with his elbow, hissing “Fucks sake, Merle!”

 

“What?!” Merle cried, innocently “I'm only asking what I know you're thinking baby brother.” Daryl felt his face flush and he glanced across at Aisling, who was similarly red but was trying hard not to laugh as she studied her short, dark red fingernails.

 

“There's too much sex in it, Merle, if I'm honest. It's like a porn set in there some days.” Daryl caught the slight wink she aimed at him, before she nodded seriously at Merle, and he smirked. “Half the time there's no point getting dressed again, because you're going to be flat on your back, or on your hands and knees, or...” she couldn't hold the straight face any longer and broke, laughing at Merle's transfixed expression which fell as soon as he realized she was teasing him.

 

“Damn, woman, you had me getting' all agitated there!” Merle shook his head and Daryl let out a small laugh, his eyes meeting Aisling's for a second before he quickly looked away again and chewed lightly on his thumbnail.

 

“Sorry Merle” she said, her giggles settling “Why not come down on Saturday, see for yourself. There's an open day and barbecue – kind of a 'sorry for taking things over and closing roads and shit' – and everyone's welcome. Why don't you two come along?”

 

The idea of the Dixon brothers at any kind of community event was enough to make them both laugh out loud, but Daryl could see the cogs of Merle's mind turning.

 

“Free hotdogs and stuff...” Aisling said in her best sing-song 'tempting a child' voice.

 

“I know you were yanking ol' Merle's chain there, but there's still a tiny part of my brain wants to think you're bluffing about all the pussy down there, so we might just do that.” Merle picked up his burger that had just arrived, and Aisling took that as her cue to leave them in peace to eat their meals. She could see that Daryl didn't look entirely comfortable in her company and she didn't like the idea of the attractive redneck being more annoyed at her than he probably already was.

 

“I've got to get going” she said, gathering her bag and the script she had been looking over with Andy “but it was good seeing you again, Merle.” Merle nodded and said “You too, sweetheart” around a mouthful of fries.

 

“Nice meeting you, Daryl. Hopefully see you on Saturday.” Daryl gave her a small nod and the edge his mouth flickered in what she thought might have been a smile, and watched her retreating body as she left the restaurant, offering him a good look at the smooth looking pale skin on her legs as they disappeared up underneath her skirt. He shook his head. _Christ, I_ _'m turning into a damn_ _creeper_.

 

Daryl scooted round to her side of the booth when she left, thinking that him and Merle both sitting on the same side of an otherwise empty booth would look weird, and felt the remnants of her body heat on the seat beneath him.

 

“Quit rubbin' your balls on her ass heat, Daryl, you fuckin' pervert” Merle grunted through a mouthful of burger, lettuce and tomato spilling out onto his chin. “You were the one askin' if she was getting' naked! Hell, why'd you have to be so goddamn vulgar to her?”

 

Merle shrugged, shoveling more food into his face “You ain't usually too bothered by what I say to women, baby brother. Why you got your panties in a bunch about what I said to Aisling? I only asked what we was both wonderin'. She was the one talkin' 'bout being naked on all fours anyway.”

 

Daryl shook his head and went back to eating. That girl had played Merle along nicely. There weren't many women who stood up to his brother like that, giving as good as they got, and none he'd ever known had done it in such a friendly, easy way. Daryl was impressed. The fact that she might just be the prettiest girl he'd ever seen didn't hurt either.

 

“Besides,” Merle's voice jolted him from his thoughts “Fat Bobby reckons his old lady watches that show and there's definitely titties in it, so we're going down there on Saturday to check it out.”

 

*.*

 

“Who were those blokes at the diner today, Ash?” Andy asked as they gathered up their scripts, notes and empty coffee cups after the read through at the old plantation site that evening. “Daryl and Merle Dixon. I met Merle at the bar the other night and we played pool. It was fun, he's a character.”

 

“Don't you think they could be trouble? I mean, they don't exactly have 'trustworthy' written all over them.”

 

Aisling glanced over at Andy, a little annoyed by his presumptions about the Dixon brothers. True, they looked like stereotypical redneck trouble makers, but she never assumed the worst about people and hoped that her friends didn't either. “I never had you down as being classist, Andy” she said quietly, and shrugged “They're interesting. I like meeting different people. Sure, wouldn't the world be an awful boring place if we just met versions of ourselves all the time.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Saturday lay fat, hot and sticky at the end of the week, heavy with humidity and the promise of a storm. Aisling was regretting agreeing to wear costume for the barbecue, looking enviously at the crew and visitors in their shorts and light clothing as she fanned herself with a paper plate. Her clothes were complicated, and while they were authentic for a woman living in Georgia in the 1860s, were still much far more constrictive than Aisling would have liked on a day like this.

 

She'd tried to do without whatever she could, but each item of he costume was as necessary as the next. The long white cotton chemise protected her body from the corset, which in turn was essential if the dress was to fit at all. A petticoat lay above that, offering modesty and protection from the hoops which fixed around her waist and gave shape to the underskirts and dress which lay over it. They had an irritating habit of swinging around or bowing up to provide everyone with a view of her white cotton drawers.

 

 

The turnout for the open day was good. Lots of people had turned up for the free food rather than the heady thrills of a stroll round an old farm, Aisling presumed. There were a lot of families in attendance, with little kids running around the green space in front of the old wooden farmstead house which filming was to be centered on.

 

She liked the house. It smelt of old wood and smoke, and offered a surprising amount of shade in the heat for a building with no air conditioning. She had posed for some photos with Andy on the shady porch earlier, for local press, and was looking forward to spending time there. With the previous season having been shot mostly on a studio set, cast and crew were all keen to work in the atmospheric house, especially as the local crew, well aware of the soaring temperatures the summer promised, had brought in portable air con devices to be rigged up during filming. For now the building looked authentic, untouched by modernity.

 

“Hey, Scarlett O'Hara!” Aisling's thoughts were jolted by the sound of Merle's loud voice booming from over by the entrance gate to the plantation. He raised his hand in a greeting and strode towards her, oblivious to the tuts and side-eyes of a couple of nearby locals, unimpressed by the Dixon brothers arrival. Daryl walked along self-consciously beside him, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes on the ground in front of him. _Why the hell did I let him drag me along to this goddamn place, full of people lookin' down their noses at us?_ _And why the hell does he have to be so fuckin' loud_?

 

“Merle, Daryl, you came!” Aisling skipped over towards them, her hooped skirts swinging lightly around her legs.

 

“You dressed up just for me, sweet cheeks?” Merle grinned, playing with the matchstick stuck between his teeth.

 

“Just for you, Merle” Aisling nodded, then waved her hand out at the expanse of the plantation, asking “Want a tour?”

 

 

Daryl hung back a bit as Aisling took them round the site, showing them the various buildings and giving them the brief history she'd picked up in the few days she'd been there. _Why's she so nice to Merle anyway? Girl got a thing for_ _dirty_ _ol_ _'_ _crackers_ _or somethin'? Always seems so damn excited to see him, like a puppy or somethin'._ He watched as she reached out a slender arm to point out something – some kind of weird chimney or something, he didn't especially care – to Merle, who was putting on a respectable act of being deeply interested in historical architecture. The swing of her hips was accentuated by the movement of her skirts, and his eyes landed on her tiny waist. C _ould probably put my damn hands_ _right_ _round her waist, she's so_ _fuckin'_ _dainty_.

 

He shrugged the thought from his head as someone called her name from behind them. Andy jogged over wearing his much more weather forgiving costume of pants, boots and a shirt, with a slouch hat perched on his long dark curly hair. “The food's ready up at the green. Want to help me get some, we'll bring it over to you at the mill?” he gestured towards Merle, to both Daryl and Aisling's surprise, and nodded over at the mill pond just ahead. “Sure thing, Samson” Merle shrugged and followed Andy back towards the crowds.

 

Suddenly alone, Daryl and Aisling stood on the path in awkward silence. _Think of something to say, for God's sake Aisling_. “So…. you don't smoke, do you?” she asked him, squinting up at his face against the sun behind him.

 

“Yeah…?”

 

“Oh, thank God for that. Nobody smokes round here!” her face lit up with a relieved smile “Can you spare one?”

 

Daryl shrugged and nodded, reaching into the breast pocket of his plaid shirt for his smokes.

 

“Not here” she reached out and tugged gently at the end of his shirt, leading him towards the pond that he could just see around the bend in the path. She skipped on ahead, sinking carefully onto the grass in her gigantic skirt and laid her hand on the ground beside her as an invitation for him to sit down.

 

Her hands shifted the hoops to one side and went underneath her skirts to unlace her boots and pull them off. Daryl pulled out two cigarettes from the pack and held one out to her.

 

“Hang on...” Daryl watched as her hands went further underneath the hoops and couldn't stop his eyes moving up her legs to above her knees, where her delicate fingers worked at untying the garters holding up opaque white stockings. She smoothed them down, off her legs and threw them on top of her boots with the pale blue ribbon garters.

 

“Much better...” she sighed quietly and wiggled her toes in the cool grass.

 

He swallowed, thickly. Was she teasing him, trying to get a reaction out of him? As he looked at her face, tilted back towards the sky, her eyes closed, he guessed that she was probably just trying to get comfortable and had no idea of the affect her actions were having on him. _Why the hell would someone like her be bothered teasin' me, anyways?_

 

“You have to wear this stuff all the time?” he asked as she lit her cigarette, waving his hand at her dress. _Nice work, Dixon. Ask her about her dress. Real manly._

 

“Yeah, most of the time, although as the series goes on I'll get a bit more disheveled, and won't be wearing this thing so much” she pulled up her dress slightly, showing him the hoops “I hope, anyway.” She fanned her face with her hand “I don't know how women coped wearing so many layers, and... contraptions, in this heat.”

 

Daryl looked at her quizzically. The ins and outs of Victorian woman’s daywear had, unsurprisingly, never crossed his mind before, and had no idea how they might differ from what modern day women wore.

 

Aisling recognized his confusion and gave him a brief rundown on what was going on underneath her dress. “No wonder you're so damn hot.” She raised an eyebrow at him and he suddenly realized what he'd said “You know what I meant” he said quietly, and blushed nonetheless, allowing himself a small smirk when her soft, easy laugh came with a reassuring tap of her hand on his knee. “I'm only messing, Daryl. Anyway, I'm off tomorrow so I can wear my regular clothes, and I can't wait.”

 

He wondered what she did on her days off, and before he knew it his thoughts tumbled out of his mouth. _What the hell? Why do I even care what she does_?

 

“Different stuff, but mostly photography. I'm going to take my camera out tomorrow. Have a wander around.”

 

“Ain't much to photograph in Goat Rock” he snorted, offering her another cigarette. “You take lots of pictures then?”

 

“Any chance I get. It's my passion.” She exhaled a stream of smoke out into the air and leaned back on her elbows. “What about you? What do you do in your time off, Daryl?”

 

“Huntin', and gettin' Merle's ass out of trouble.” He looked down at the grass and plucked at a few blades, wishing he had something more interesting to tell her. _Just a typical redneck, doin' typical redneck stuff._

 

“Ooh, what kind of hunting?” she asked, leaning forward and stubbing her cigarette out on the ground. “Is it like those guys with the guns on tv, out in the woods?”

 

He nodded “Kinda, but I got a crossbow. The woods round here are pretty good for huntin'”. Aisling stole a glance at his arms. The crossbow was probably responsible for the taut, sculpted muscles that made her want to reach out and run her fingers over them.

 

“Ain't much else to do round here” he admitted, shrugging.

 

“What about nightlife?” she asked, shaking the thoughts of his arms out of her head “Are there any music venues, or bars that have bands play?”

 

“Don't think so. Up nearer Atlanta, maybe? Never been to one anyway...” he trailed off, suddenly feeling very old and boring for his thirty one years. _How old is she anyway_?

 

Aisling sensed that he felt uncomfortable but wasn't sure why. “You'd need to keep your hearing for hunting, I guess. Mine's shot to shit after spending all my life at gigs. You see little kids at gigs now and they've got these great ear protectors on, but my little ears were sucking all that noise in.”

 

“You went to see bands when you were a kid?” Daryl wasn't sure if she meant when she was a teenager, or when she was an actual child.

 

“Huh? What?” She cupped her ear and laughed, and he snorted quietly, the corner of his mouth kinking up in that little smile of his. Her laugh was like her voice, soft and slightly musical, and Daryl found himself thinking that he'd like to hear it lots more.

 

“My parents are concert promoters. I was three months old when I went to my first gig, not voluntarily of course. Apparently I slept all the way through it.”

 

 _What the fuck is a concert promoter? I ain't got nothin' to tell her 'bout my folks. Fuck, this is all too difficult. Why can't I think of nothin' to say? C'mon man…_ Daryl nodded, his lips pressed together, jaw tight, desperately trying to think of something – anything – to break the silence that was dragging on for longer than he'd like. It was uncomfortable now. He liked talking to her, surprisingly. Daryl didn't ordinarily like talking to anyone, especially not women. Aisling was different somehow.

 

“Here comes Merle, an' your boyfriend” he nodded over to the path where the two men were striding towards them, carrying paper plates of food and some drinks.

 

“Andy isn't my boyfriend” she said, her green eyes catching Daryl's blue ones for a moment before she looked away and stood up to relieve Merle and Andy of some plates. “Ooh, you got beers!” she said excitedly as Andy held out a cold bottle to her “where'd you snag them from?”

 

“There's a stash in the makeup trailer fridge, but shhhhh” he held a finger to his lips conspiratorially and passed another beer to Daryl.

 

As she lifted the hotdog to her mouth, Aisling's Mum's voice popped into her head, reminding her to _eat more like a human and less like a particularly hungry blue whale feeding on krill_. Daryl noticed her frown at the hotdog and put it back on her plate, then slowly pick a tiny piece from it and pop it into her mouth, chewing slowly. _Why's she eatin' all weird all of a sudden_?

 

“So how comes you're makin' this show over here anyhow? Couldn't they just stick y'all in front of one of them green screens and pretend you're in AssCrack, Georgia, rather than flying y'all out here?” Merle asked around his finger as he fished about in his mouth for a piece of hotdog that had gotten lodged somewhere.

 

“We shot the last two seasons in England,” Andy explained, sipping on his beer “and they went down really well with BBC America viewers. Turns out we could get a whole load of money to shoot over here, and it would boost audience figures by having it made here. It was crazy when we were over doing promotional stuff for the last season, all these Americans knowing my name.”

 

“You've been here before?” Daryl asked. Aisling didn't look up from picking miniscule pieces of hotdog from her plate so Andy explained that they'd been in New York and Los Angeles about two years ago, doing various interviews with papers and tv shows.

 

“Ash took me round both cities like she'd lived in them for years, dragging me to bars and clubs and parties, meeting all these people she knows… I felt like the most boring man on earth. She's like… like this friendly dog that goes around making friends with people”

 

Aisling looked up from her hotdog dissection and raised an eyebrow at Andy “Did you just call me a dog?”

 

Daryl tried and failed to suppress a snort, while Merle just slapped his thigh and laughed “Well aren't you a silver-tongued charmer, Andy!”

 

After shooting a playful glare at Andy, Aisling stretched out her long legs and arched her back, yawning. “We have to get back now… time to go breathe smoke and beer over some more local press.” Andy said his goodbyes and started off towards the main area again as she rolled her stockings back up her legs. Daryl quickly looked away, studiously avoiding watching as she tied the ribbon garters back up and slipped her boots on. “You two feel free to hang out as long as you like. It's a nice place here.”

 

She smoothed her skirts with her hands, gave a little curtsey and as she began to walk away she turned and blew a jokey little kiss back at them, then skipped off after Andy. He watched her leave as Merle finished his beer and stood up to leave.

 

“C'mon lil' brother, time to hit the road. People are gonna start thinkin' we're itchin' to steal shit now those two have gone.” He watched Daryl's eyes snap back to his feet. “Can't take your beady little eyes off her, huh Darylina?”

 

“Shut up, Merle”.

 

He picked up the plates and bottles and stuffed them in a nearby trash can. _People might think we're trash but that don't mean we've gotta prove 'em right._

 


	4. Chapter 4

On Sunday evening Daryl drove his truck back home from the grocery store down the old creek road, and noticed a group of bikers in the parking lot of the service station. He slowed down to see if they were friends of Merles. There were maybe twenty or so of them, and as he drew closer he could see that they were all bunched up together, and Aisling was in front of them with a camera.  She put it up to her face, pacing around, then crouched down in front of them.   Not really aware of why he was doing it, he pulled into the side of the road a little way back, lit a cigarette and leaned on the open window, watching.

 

She was wearing jean shorts and a black t-shirt with some kind of logo on the front of it, which he couldn't make out. The bikers all appeared to be old guys and seeing as how they were all laughing and joking, seemed to be getting on with Aisling like a house on fire. She waved her arm at a couple of them off on the right, getting them to move in a little, then went over to one in front and moved his arm a little.

 

Aisling weaved her magic, entrancing people. She'd even managed to charm Merle, and he was one of the most unpleasant son of a bitch he knew. She was like nobody he'd ever met before. How did she just appear and make people want to be close to her, talk to her, hear her laugh… touch her?

 

He watched as they seemed to finish up and she posed with some of the bikers for photos on their mobile phones. Reluctantly he started up the truck and drove off. _Don't want her to see me here, sitting watching her like some kind of_ _peepin' tom_.

 

*.*

 

“Gee up Uncle Dawill!” Daryl was on his hands and knees being a horse while two year old Stevie sat on his back. Stevie's dad, Shaun, was one of the few close friends Daryl had. His wife was visiting her mother up near Richmond and Uncle Daryl was providing a great distraction as a fraught Shaun tried to wriggle his other child – four year old Paige – out from the window seat storage where she'd gotten herself stuck.

 

Daryl was so good with the kids, always ready to play with them and make them laugh. Shaun and his wife loved how the kids brought out another side to the gruff, awkward man. When Paige was born he'd gone round to visit and Shaun had expected Daryl to do nothing more than perhaps grunt 'congratulations' and nod towards the squirming pink bundle he held. He'd surprised them all though, when he'd carefully taken Shaun's brand new daughter gently into his arms and made soft soothing noises to the tiny girl.

 

“Christ, Corinne can't come home quick enough” Shaun muttered, cuddling a wailing Paige to his chest.

 

“She makes it look easy, huh?” Daryl asked when he'd stopped to 'drink from the creek' in front of the fireplace.

 

Shaun's computer pinged and he set Paige down gently behind her little brother on her Uncle Daryl's back so he could read Corinne's email.

“Her Mom's feeling better. Back tomorrow!” he said, giving the air a small celebratory punch.

 

Daryl had never used a computer, had no idea how they worked, and had no interest in learning, but he did know that if Andy had got a message from Corinne on his computer, it must be connected to the Internet. They used computers at the garage he worked at to order parts in from wholesalers, and his friends talked about looking things up online, and that was as much as Daryl knew about the big, powerful and pointless world of the Internet.

 

“You can look at the internet on that thing?” Daryl nodded as casually as he could at the computer as he 'galloped' past, Stevie whipping his shoulder with a half-chewed carrot stick and Paige shouting “Giddy up horsey!”

 

“Yeah… you wanna use it?” Shaun asked, trying not to sound too surprised. Daryl cantered to a halt and leaned his head down, allowing the kids to climb off over his shoulders and onto the floor, before nodding. “That ok?”

 

“Sure, you know what to do?” His friend's blank face was answer enough, so he quickly opened a browser and showed Daryl the basics of typing in what he was looking for, how to look at the results. “Just click on anything that comes up that you want to see, and it will open up. I'll take these two for their bath and leave you to it.”

 

Daryl didn't offer any information or explanation, and Shaun didn't ask for it. He knew that in the unlikely event that Daryl wanted to share something, he would. His friend was closed up. Protected.

 

Watching Shaun leave the room with a small child under each arm, Daryl fished in his jeans pocket for the page he'd torn from the local paper on Monday at work. He'd been having lunch in the break room when he'd spotted a small picture of Andy and Aisling on the front page. Turning to the relevant page, he read the article about the tv show and studied the photograph of the two of them, arm in arm on the porch of the house he'd seen at the plantation. _Aisling O'Brien_.  He'd torn it out telling himself it was to show Merle, seeing as how he was suddenly so interested in the show, but had never got around to it.  The page stayed folded up and transferred from one pocket to another over the past couple of days.

 

He slowly typed her name with one finger, taking ages to find the apostrophe and get the spacing right that was apparently necessary if he didn't want to look at pictures of Irish Pubs or an 'award winning realtor' in Florida.

 

On the right of the screen a few small pictures of her appeared. She looked different. Like her, but not like her, with more makeup and in fancy clothes, but with the same straight elegant nose, full lips, and large green eyes. What looked like an encyclopedia entry was underneath. ' _Aisling Eleanor O'Brien is an Irish television and stage actress, Born January 19_ _th_ – Daryl counted in his head, that made her twenty five – _in Dublin, Ireland_ '

On the left there was a list of results that he read through carefully; _Aisling O'Brien – IMDB…_ ' _Glamorous Aisling O'Brien joins Eve Mespill and Tiggy Swailes on the red carpet'_ … ' _Wild Geese Star Aisling Goes Makeup Free As She Shows Off Her Enviable Pins_ '.

 

 _What the_ _fuck_ _are 'enviable pins'? That some British thing_? He wasn't sure what he was looking for. Then he noticed the word 'videos' at the top of the page and carefully positioned the little pointy finger over it and clicked.

 

' _Aiden and Ellen Argue – Wild Geese Episode_ _6_ _Preview_ '. The little picture beside it looked like Aisling and Andy, so he clicked on it and a video began to play.

There she was. Aisling, being Not Aisling. She looked even paler than in real life, sitting at a table in what looked like a kitchen while Andy, being Not Andy, ignored her as she tried to talk to him. She pleaded with him to listen, before he rounded on her and screamed at her that she was a whore.

He felt uncomfortable watching someone shouting at her, even though he knew it wasn't real. It seemed real, and made his mind momentarily flash to the childhood he tried hard not to think about at all.

 

The next video he watched was behind the scenes footage of filming. Daryl smiled as he watched Aisling try to milk a goat before she fell on her ass and swore loudly, calling the goat 'a wanker'.

 

He was about to click on the little x to close it all when another video caught his eye further down the list. ' _The_ _Charlotte Kings Get Sexy With A Very Naked Aisling O'Brien_ '.

 

 _What the hell? She done some kinda porno_?

 

He hesitated, not sure he should watch the video. He wanted to, of course, but he felt nervous. What if he saw something he didn't want to see, and couldn't unsee it? But it was a video that promised Daryl a chance to possibly see a naked Aisling, so he clicked on it.

 

It was a music video, in black and white. He'd never heard of the band before, but he hadn't heard of many bands so that wasn't surprising. Five guys. Three guitarists, a drummer and a singer, all playing some kind of slow soulful music with heavy bass, round some kind of platform or bed in the middle with a naked Aisling in profile on it, her modesty protected by strategic light and shadows. Close up, rapid shots of a mouth kissing her skin were interspersed with footage of the band playing, and as the video ended Daryl let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. It wasn't seedy or coarse. It was probably the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

 

Later that night, in the quiet darkness of his tiny bedroom, he lay in bed and thought about the video, pulling himself free from his shorts. He closed his eyes and pictured her smooth porcelain body, his mouth taking the place of the one in the video, planting kisses on her soft skin...his tongue sliding over the little tattoo of a feather he'd noticed on her hip. His dick hardened quickly. _Thos_ _e damn eyes of hers.._. Daryl imagined her big green eyes looking up at him from between his legs, her full lips around him, her mouth full of him. His strokes quickened, the tension building in his stomach, bubbling up and up until he came with a soft groan. _Fu_ _uu_ _ck_ …

 

*.*

 

Aisling was tired and hungry. She'd spent Thursday morning scrubbing the floor of the farm house, on camera, and her arms ached from the repetitive movements so alien to her Twenty First century body. She was about to drive past the diner when she remembered that she had no food in her rented house at all, save for half a pizza that should have gone in the trash days ago. _The diner it is then_.

 

Pushing open the door her eyes spotted a familiar face in a booth up on the left. Daryl was eating a burger and half reading the label on a ketchup bottle on the table in front of him.

 

“Mind if I join you?” His head jerked up to see Aisling standing by the booth, smiling down at him.

 

Daryl shrugged, suddenly panicked. _Why'd she think I'd give a shit where she sits? Don't matter to me_.

“Don't care.”

If she'd noticed his rudeness she never mentioned it, instead asking him how his week had been.

“Fine.”

 

Daryl felt his face flush and he stared hard at the burger in his hands. He felt bad. His reply had come out a lot gruffer than he had intended it to. It wasn't her fault that he'd sat staring at her from his truck, or jerked off thinking about her. He was the one feeling like shit. She'd only ever been nice to him.

 

Aisling's eyes grew a little wider and she froze, wondering what she'd done to piss him off.

“Em… do you want me to leave, Daryl? Do you want to be on your own? Sorry, I just plonked myself down….”

 

 _Shit. Hurt her damn feelings now_.

 

“No” he interrupted her, “sorry. Ain't that used to new people.” He swallowed hard, mustering up the wherewithal from somewhere deep inside him to break the silence between them and asked, softly “Hows Goat Rock treatin' you so far then?”

 

Aisling was relieved and relaxed a little. _He's not the most social of butterflies, is he_ …

 

“People seem nice.” She stole a glance at him, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment before the waitress approached. She ordered a cup of soup figuring that she could eat that without appearing too hogg-like, and then when she drew a blank in her mind on how to ask him calmly and casually, blurted out “My brothers friends are in a band and they're playing in Atlanta tomorrow and I was wondering if you'd like to come with me and see them?”

 _Oh, cool, Aisling, really cool_.

 

She didn't know where this awkwardness had come from. Things like this were never a problem for her before, but this man had her mind muddled. Usually, a guy would be the one asking her to go somewhere with him, but here she was delivering the most ham-fisted invitation ever.

 

 _The hell._.? His eyes snapped up to hers “You want… me to go with you?” Daryl's first thought was that this was some kind of joke. He'd agree to go and everyone… Merle, his friends, her friends, would all jump out and shout “GOTCHA! As if she'd ever invite a hick like you along somewhere!” But her eyes looked genuine, all big and earnest as she bit her lower lip nervously. _Damn, those lips._

 

“I thought you might like it. I'll be on my own otherwise, and... I thought you might enjoy it because you said you hadn't been to a gig before.” She looked down at her hands playing nervously with her fork, wishing that she could rewind and not be the overly forward stranger inviting him out. “I thought maybe we could have driven up and you could have been be my navigator...”

 

_You know, you could have talked about thinking a few more times there, Aisling. You didn't mention it anywhere near enough. I may as well call myself Thinky McThinkerson..._

 

The waitress arrived with her soup. She stared at it, thinking that she really needed to reign herself in a little if she was to get through this time in Goat Rock without embarrassing and alienating anyone else.

 

“Sounds good.”

 

His voice, quiet and scratchy, surprised her back into the here and now. “You'll come?!” The happy, relieved look on her face made Daryl smile, one of his little half smiles that Aisling was developing quite a liking for, and he gave her a little nod of his head.

 

“Thank you! I'll drive! I'll pick you up! You don't have go do anything apart from enjoy yourself!” she babbled, before catching his amused glance and giggling softly.

 

“Is seven o'clock ok? What's your address?” she picked up her phone to type it in.

 

“Seven's fine… s'easier if you pick me up from work. Shaun's Auto Repair, out by the church.” Daryl didn't want her to see his shithole of a house, but he kept that to himself.

 

“Gotta get back to work, Aisling” he ate the last fry in his basket and licked his fingers clean. _Wow. That's hot._ She felt a small blush heat her cheeks and cast her eyes down to the table for a moment trying to control it.

 

He stood up and paused a moment, watching as his hand reached out to lightly touch her shoulder as though it had a mind of it's own. Just before his fingers made contact with her he stopped himself and returned his hand to rest by his side. “I'll… eh.. see you tomorrow night then?”

 

“See you tomorrow” she nodded and smiled up at him as he got up to go. Daryl's mind flashed back to last night, when he'd fantasized about those same green eyes staring up at him from his crotch. He nodded and left the diner quickly, heat flooding his face and his groin.

 

As he drove back to work the reality of the situation hit him. It was about an hours drive into Atlanta, so that made two hours he'd be sitting in a car with her, never mind however long they'd be watching the band. He tried to remember spending even half that time alone with a woman before but drew a blank. Even if they were all added up, his previous experiences wouldn't come close to that amount of time.

 

_Well shit, what the hell've I gone and agreed to? Girl's gotten me so far outta my comfort zone I can't even see the_ _god_ _damn zone no more._

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Andy was in a foul mood. It was getting late on Friday afternoon and he kept missing his mark, responding to his frustration with increased agitation, swearing and refusing any direction.

“We're going to be here all night at this rate” muttered Stuart, one of Aisling's favorite crew members. The older man had been a camera operator on the show since season one and was like a kindly, protective uncle to her and a few of the other younger cast and crew members.

“I know,” Aisling responded quietly beside him, watching as Simon, the Assistant Director ran his hand over his face in exasperation “he hit the mark fine in rehearsals.”

He'd been fine until lunch time, but Andy had got twitchier and less focused afterward, and now, hours later, it was obvious that the situation was deteriorating rather than improving.

 

Aisling sighed with relief as it was decided to postpone the scene until shooting resumed on Monday, and hurried out of the house towards her trailer to get changed. She had just enough time to get home and shower before picking Daryl up.

 

“Aisling! Wait up! Ash!” She felt her fists clench as Andy ran up behind her. _Please, no, I don't want to be late. Why didn't I get Daryl's number_ _so I could call him if I ran late_ _?_ _That was stupid._

 

“Andy. Yes?” She kept walking as she spoke, forcing Andy to walk quickly alongside her or speak to her retreating back.

 

“Sorry about today, Ash. I don't know what happened.” He put a hand on her arm, forcing her to stop. “What is it Andy? I'm running late.” Aisling was brusquer than she would normally be, but she was irritated with Andy. She suspected what had happened, and she didn't care what he did in his own time, but it was affecting everyone on set.

 

“I, eh… I was wondering if we could go back to mine, get some food and work on this scene… see if something clicks?”

 

“I can't, Andy. I've got plans tonight.” She began walking again, and hurried up the steps of the trailer, already undoing some of the little hooks and eyes at the front of her dress.

 

“What kind of plans?” Andy hadn't been having anything like the amount of fun Aisling had been having in Goat Rock. He mostly stayed in his house while she hung out with other cast and crew, doing stuff. Things. He'd never been an outgoing person, and he envied Aisling's easy charm and sociability. The way he saw it he had nothing much else to do other than watch television on his own in his rented house, drink, and indulge in some of the pharmaceuticals he'd asked Merle to supply him with on the open day. Maybe he could tag along and join in her plans?

 

“I'm going to see a band.”

 

“Oh, okay, that's cool. I'll come along. The change of scene will do me good.”

 

“No, sorry Andy. I'm going with Daryl” she said, bluntly.

 

“What… Merle's brother? Why are you going with him? Did he ask you?” Andy had noticed Daryl's shifty little eyes on her any time he knew she wasn't looking, but he was so different from any of Aisling's boyfriends in the past he had assumed that she wouldn't be interested in a man like him.

 

“I asked him. Now I really have to go” she tried closing the door,

 

“There are a million other people who would have gone with you, Ash. I would have, if you'd asked me...”

 

“I asked Daryl.” She spoke quietly, but firmly. “I'll see you on Monday, Andy.”

 

Aisling gently closed the door of the trailer on him and the conversation, and frantically tugged at hooks, ribbons, buttons, catches and buckles until she was free of the costume. Pulling on shorts and a sweatshirt, she grabbed her bag and ran to her car to go home and get ready.

*.*

 

Meanwhile, Andy stalked over to his own trailer, eager to get inside and pour himself a drink. Pacing the small space, swigging back the amber liquid quickly, he wondered why the hell she had invited that redneck? He and Aisling used to get along well, but now… she seemed to have tired of his attention.

 

Andy thought back to the night in Los Angeles, almost two years ago, when a very drunk Aisling had accosted his mouth with hers in their hotel elevator. They'd made it to his room, all sloppy, frantic kisses, where she took all her clothes off, pushed him onto the bed and climbed up his body like a – hopelessly giggly – predatory cat. Andy felt himself grow hard at the memory. It was one he returned to often while masturbating. He'd been too much of a gentleman back then to take her up on her offer, even though he had really, _really_ wanted to. She had passed out on his bed almost immediately, and he had covered her pale, naked body with a sheet.

What would have happened if he had been as drunk as she was, and had taken her up on her offer?

 

She'd given him a sincere and hungover apology the next morning, blaming alcohol and the atmosphere at the club they'd been to.

“ _I'm so sorry, Andy. It wouldn't have happened if I'd been in my right mind, and_ _I promise that_ _I won't put you in that position_ _ever again.”_  
Andy knew he wasn't the same man as he had been back then. He'd do things very differently now.

 

*.*

 

 

She was ten minutes late.   
Daryl fidgeted nervously with the handle on the shop door as he waited to see if she would arrive. _She probably forgot all about it. Or changed her mind about wantin' to go with m_ _e._

 

Was this a date? Did he want it to be one? He'd never been on a date in his life, and the idea of going on one with Aisling filled him with equal parts dread and excitement.

 

He stood outside for a moment, shifting uneasily on his feet, before coming back in again and waiting just inside the door. He muttered something quietly to himself and went back outside, only to pace about for a second or two before returning to the office at the front of the shop again.

_What if she drives past an' don't know I'm waitin' inside? Don't wanna' stand out there lookin' like a prick though. Good Lord, why's this so damn complicated?_

 

Shaun came through to the office from the shop door at the side and watched Daryl's pacing about with quiet amusement, noting that he was free of the grease and grime he accumulated during the average work day, and that his jeans and black t-shirt looked clean and rip free. “What are you doin' back here? Thought you left an hour ago.”

 

“Goin' to see a band. Up in Atlanta.” Daryl glanced up at the clock on the wall. Where was she?

 

“Yeah?” Shaun decided to let this be one of the rare occasions he'd push a little. Something was definitely up… the 'spidey senses' that his wife had been honing in him over the years were tingling. “Who you goin' with?”

 

Daryl looked everywhere but at his friend. “A girl I met. Ain't nothin' neither, so I ain't talking about it.”

 

Shaun forced back a smile and nodded seriously at his friend “Ok”.   
Corinne would squeal when he told her that Daryl was on a date. She'd tried, and failed, to hook him up with a few of her friends over the years, but nothing had ever come of it. Daryl wasn't interested and that was that.

 

“That her?” Shaun nodded his head towards the black Cherokee pulling up in front of the shop. Aisling got out of the driver seat and looked around, her eyes falling on Daryl standing in the doorway. She was wearing gray skinny jeans and a black t-shirt that fell slightly off one pale shoulder. “Damn...” Shaun let out a low whistle and Daryl turned around to glare at him.

“Shut up”.

 

Shaun grinned and watched Daryl hesitate briefly, his strong hands clenching in and out of fists for a second or two before he walked out towards the pretty girl smiling at him.

 

“Startin' to think you weren't comin'...” he squinted at her though the dark hair that had fallen over his eyes.

 

 _God, he looks good._ “I'm so sorry I'm late, Daryl. Work was… it took ages.”

 

He shrugged. “S'ok”. The corners of his mouth twitched up in a small smile and he nodded at the car. “We get goin'?”

 

*.*

 

 

“You filmin' today?” he asked as they drove along the quiet roads, past trees and fields.

 

“Yeah… it dragged on. Andy was being difficult.” He noticed her brow furrow slightly as she spoke, a look of frustration crossing over her face. “We all work hard, y'know? We're all trying to do a good job, and he just...” she trailed off, and shot a glance over at him and smiled.

“Anyway, enough about work. Have you been hunting this week?”

 

“Can't do much 'til fall, but I'm gonna get out there this week and try getting' a couple of hogs.”

 

“A hog? Like a wild pig?” Aisling glanced at him, confused. There were wild pigs in America? This was news to her.

 

Daryl nodded, “S'feral. Fucks up crops, people's gardens and shit. You don't have 'em in Dublin?”

 

Aisling laughed at the mental image of wild pigs stampeding around Dublin. “No, not that I know of. Not the animal kind, anyway. There used to be giant Elks in Ireland, I do know that. They're extinct now. They have a skeleton in the Dead Zoo in Dublin and it used to frighten the shit out of me when I was a kid.... massive thing, with huge antlers.”

 

“The hell is a Dead Zoo?” He looked over at her, puzzled.

 

“That's not a global term then?” she laughed. “The National Museum in Dublin has galleries full of all these stuffed animals… everyone calls it the Dead Zoo.”

 

She turned to look at him in surprise when he let out an actual laugh “'Dead Zoo'... man, that's good!” She was immediately addicted to the sound. Not too deep, not too loud. Throaty, and very masculine. 

  
*.*  


The drive to Atlanta went quickly for them both as they settled into fairly easy conversation, talking about Georgia and Dublin, how it was growing up in the different locations. He was surprised to find out that her Mom was from Oregon, and she had visited her grandparents there lots before they'd moved to Spain when she was in her teens.

 

“Ain't got no family other than Merle” he admitted, quietly. He didn't sound sad, or wistful, just matter of fact about it. She didn't say anything, letting him continue if he wanted to.

 

“Mom died when I was small. Dad died a few years back. Cancer.”

 

 _Why the hell am I tellin' her this shit_?   
He'd never volunteered information like this to anyone, but found the usual barriers that he'd carefully built to prevent him from doing so strangely weak.

 

“I'm sorry.” She wasn't sure what to say, so she left it at that.

 

Daryl snorted “Don't be, I ain't. He was a mean son of a bitch.” He cleared his throat and looked around at the streets as they started entering Atlanta. “Not doin' a great job of navigatin', am I? Where we headed?”

 

*.*

  
  
The line of people in front of the graffiti covered wall was the only indication that they'd arrived at The Drunken Unicorn. Aisling parked up as close as she could and they walked down the street to the venue. Daryl went to join the line, but Aisling grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the door. Her touch was like a static shock through his arm to his stomach, and while his first instinct was to pull away her tiny hand in his large one felt too good. She kept hold of it while she spoke to the doorman and he checked them off the guestlist, and didn't let it go as she led him down the steps and through the doors into the small, dark, smokey venue.

His chest puffed up with pride a little, despite himself. He couldn't remember feeling proud of anything before, apart from maybe a good hunt or finishing a complicated repair job in a good time. What he was feeling now was on a whole new level that he could feel in the flush of his cheeks and the quickening of his heartbeat.

 

He had to yell a little for Aisling to hear him over the sound of the support band, resting his hand lightly on her shoulder as he gently pulled her a little closer to ask what she wanted to drink. Her lips brushed his ear as she shouted her reply and he felt a million nerve endings explode at the sensation. The slightest touch from her had him giddy, but he wasn't alone. Aisling was also feeling similar sparks shooting between them, and had to bite her lip to stop herself from fulfilling the urge to take his earlobe between her lips.

 

 _God, this is intense. I want to kiss him. Can I kiss him...? No. He'd freak out. Stop being such a fucking sex pest,_ _Aisling_.

 

“So, you know these guys?” he asked when the band finished, waved his hand towards the stage where the roadies were setting up the gear and amp changes, plugging things in, taping things down and generally doing what Aisling had watched stage crew do her entire life.

“Yeah, they're friends of one of my brothers. They're nice guys.”

“Your brother do what your folks do? What was it, concert somethin'?” She was surprised he'd remembered, and nodded. “Promoters. Yeah, he wanted to follow in the family footsteps.”

“You didn't?”

“ Nah,” she  shrugged and  smiled  up  at him “ it's borin g.”

 

Daryl laughed, giving her a  gentle nudge with his elbow “Y'know I reckon most people would think rock and roll 's pretty  excitin '.” 

 

“This part is,” she waved her hand loosely at the people, the stage “but the other part's all checking shit, going through insurance details, getting licenses. It's all paperwork, and I'm not really a paperwork kind of girl.”

 

“Yeah, if anyone asked I'd never say 'Aisling's a real paperwork kinda girl'” His blue eyes met her green ones and he gave her one of his little smiles, which she returned with a small bashful one of her own. 

 

“What would you say then?” She hadn't intended to voice the words that popped into her head, but there they were, spilling off her tongue and out into the space between them.

 

He looked at his beer for a moment, and swallowed, his tongue  suddenly feeling  far too big for his mouth. He looked at her through dark eyelashes and  leaned towards her slightly “I'd  probably say-”

 

The sharp, shrill whistle of feedback spiked through the room and Daryl winced slightly and dropped his eyes again as the band ambled on stage, picking up guitars and mics. “Hiya Atlanta, it's nice to be in you!” the singer shouted and loud guitars burst out, filling the room with pulsing noise.

 

Aisling wanted to hold up her hand and shout at everyone to shut up, grab Daryl's shoulders and shout “What were you going to say? TELL ME!”

He held up his beer bottle to her and raised his eyebrows, asking if she'd like another drink. She nodded, and silently cursed the band and their shitty bloody timing.

 

On his return he gave her the coke and he sipped his beer, looking at the crowd who seemed to be mostly in their early twenties or so. Daryl wondered if he would ever have been like them at that age if his life had been different? They were dancing and moshing, screaming out the words to the songs, enjoying the music and enjoying life.

 

“Hey, it's the lovely Ash. Hi Ash!” The singer raised his hand and waved over at her, only a few feet away in the small venue, and a couple of hundred pairs of eyes landed on Aisling and Daryl. She gave him a warm smile and a little wave back, oblivious to the stares, while Daryl stared at his feet, uncomfortable with the attention, even if it was second hand.

 

Strobe lights cast her body in black and white, and he thought about Merle, his Dad, the time his friend Chuck's dog had diarrhea in the back of his truck… anything to squash down the images of her body in the music video that flooded his mind. She caught his stare and smiled at him, then put a hand on his broad shoulder and leaned up on tiptoes to speak into his ear, her breath hot against his skin.

“Would you like to hang out with the band later? They're having a few drinks nearby.”

His brow crumpled into a slight frown. _Hangin' with a bunch of hipsters?_ “You don't have to,” she added, quickly “If you don't want to that's totally fine, we can just head back, it's no problem.”

 

Whether it was the beers or the increasing need he felt to spend more with Aisling he didn't know, but he found himself nodding “Sure, if you want to.”

 

*.*

 

The bar was full of tastemakers, hipsters, comic nerds and musicians, none of whom Daryl could ever have pictured himself spending time with a few weeks ago. But here he was, wedged in a corner between Aisling and a girl with really short bangs and full sleeve tattoos who kept smiling at him and asking him questions about himself.

 

 _These people sure do a lot of kissin' and huggin'_.

 

Aisling wound her slender arms around someone else who had just arrived and kissed their cheek, and Daryl wondered how he'd react if she greeted him the way she greeted these people. His body had stiffened when the band arrived and both the singer and the drummer had pressed kisses against her lips, but he relaxed slightly when he saw their girlfriends do the same. His small circle of friends behaved completely differently. He couldn't imagine Corinne greeting him like that, and he didn't want her to, but the idea of Aisling doing it was one he liked.

 

Initially, as Aisling introduced him to everyone as they arrived, he'd felt tense. Daryl wasn't the socializing type, but as Aisling had gently guided him into conversations and topics that he might feel comfortable engaging in he found himself taking part more, and to his surprise he found himself enjoying it.

 

There was no doubt that the alcohol played a part in loosening his tongue, but he knew Aisling's presence, her arm pressed up against his in the tight space, her smiling eyes meeting his every now and then, that helped make it it all _easier_. He felt safer. Less like he needed to protect himself.

 

Aisling watched the girl who'd been desperately trying to hook up with Daryl wander off to another crowd and nudged Daryl lightly “Your fangirl's gone” she said, pointing to where the girl had been.

 

“Yeah, she kept tryin' to get me to go outside with her and stuff” he said, shrugging.

 

“You didn't want to?”

 

“Nah… happy here.”

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

It was dark as they drove back to Goat Rock, the lights on the dash the only illumination inside the car. Daryl laid his head against the passenger window, staring out at the nothing going past.

 

“Did you have a good night?” she asked, looking across at him.

 

“Real good.” He smiled, hesitating briefly before reaching out his hand and tapping a finger lightly against her arm “Thanks for invitin' me along.”

 

_Best damn night of my life. Prettiest girl in the world an' no Merle to fuck it all up._

 

He was silent for a moment, then asked “How'd you cope with bein' stuck in places like Goat Rock, when your life's usually like that?” referring to the bar and the people they'd been with.

 

“That isn't _real_ life. That's all fluff. It's fun, but it isn't real and it can drive you mad sometimes.” She flexed her arms against the steering wheel and sighed “So much of my life is bullshit… so it feels good to be somewhere with real people. It's a nice change.”

“What ya mean, 'real people'?” He looked at her, confused.

 

“Actors and musicians and all that, they're a particular breed of people. A lot of them are just so full of shit… it's all egos and self promotion, and you don't know if someone's talking to you because they like you or if it's because they want something from you.”

 

“That happen much? People usin' you for shit?” he asked, chewing on his thumbnail, watching as she ran her hand back through her long dark hair as she thought.

 

“Sometimes. I can be too naive and trusting, so I don't always see it at first. I guess I just like thinking the best of people rather than expecting the worst.”

 

_We couldn't be more different if we tried, huh, Aisling?_

 

She glanced over at him, noticing that they were over half way to Goat Rock. “Look at that, we're almost back and I've done nothing but yammer on about myself. Sorry, Daryl.”

 

“Naw, you didn't.” he smiled, one of those little half smiles where the corners of his mouth flicked up. “'Sides, I like listenin' to you.”

 

Aisling's stomach flipflopped inside her body. The space between them felt too big and the car too short on air.

“You got a cigarette, Daryl?”

 

He lit one for her and their fingers brushed as he passed it to her, nerve endings tingling.

“Don't you like actin'?” he asked, chewing on his thumbnail. His blue eyes were sharp, focused on her.

 

“Acting's pretending. I know we make out it's some noble profession, but a lot of it can be just playing dress-up. Most of the time I do love it...” she glanced over at him “but I'm not kidding myself that I'm doing anything important.”

 

“Fixin' up cars aint' important” he stated, bluntly. He'd been tinkering around with engines as long as he could remember, and he liked the feeling of getting something working, but he'd never thought it was worthwhile. It was all he could do, so he did it.

 

“Yeah it is. You help people. Without you they wouldn't be able to get around. You contribute.”

 

Daryl snorted at the idea that he contributed to anything.

“Can't do much else. Didn't finish High School. Quit an' got a job when the ol' man got sick.”

He would have liked to have finished school. One of his teachers had tried to convince him to stay on, said he was intelligent and had a quick brain, but it just wasn't meant to be. Will Dixon may have been a cruel, violent, abusive bastard, but he was still his father, so Daryl stepped up.

 

“That was a kind thing to do. Do you think he appreciated it?” Aisling's voice was quiet, unsure if she was pushing things too far.

 

“Naw. Besides, I was never gonna be a doctor or a lawyer or somethin' like that. Weren't no great loss to the world.” He shot her a sideways smile “Don't think I'd make such a good doctor anyway. Ain't got no patience with people. Probably just tell 'em to stop bein' such a pussy.”

A broad smile spread over Aisling's face “Yeah, I can't picture you as Doctor Daryl either.”

 

They reached Goat Rock, and Daryl directed Aisling to the end of his road. He wanted to clear his head before he got in, in case Merle was back from whatever bender he'd been on the last couple of days, and the ten minute walk would do him good.

Aisling cut out the engine and shifted slightly in her seat to face him.

 

“Wasn't sure tonight was gonna be my kinda' thing” Daryl admitted, his voice soft and quiet “y'know, the band n'all. But I had a good time.” He looked over at her through his bangs and gave a small smile.

“Maybe..., uh, I can take you somewhere next time.. say thanks.” He hoped that the warmth of his cheeks wasn't visible in the dark car.

 

“I'd like that, Daryl.”

 

He didn't know what to say. His mouth was dry and the only two words his mind could come up with were “Gotta go.”

As he reached out his hand to open the car door Aisling leaned over quickly and pressed those soft, full lips to his still flushed cheek. Daryl froze, his body stiffening automatically at the contact.

“Thanks for coming with me.” Aisling's tiny hand rested on his forearm for a moment before she returned it to the steering wheel. Daryl nodded shyly at her, and got out of the car clumsily, all legs and arms, his battling body and brain not able to coordinate with any ease in the wake of her lips.

 

*.*

 

 

“That you, Darlyina?” Merle's voice boomed from the bathroom as Daryl closed the front door behind him. The toilet flushed and Merle emerged into the small sitting room, his eyes glassy and pinpricked. He fanned the air around him and laughed “I'd give that a minute or two if I were you, baby brother. Guts are in a bad way.”

 

Daryl grimaced and went to the sink to pour himself a glass of water. “Where you been?”

 

“Me an' Hank been down in East Point. Got ourselves a little delivery job.”

 

Daryl grunted. “Coulda called. Didn't know if you were alive or dead, Merle.”

 

“What, you some naggin' wifey now? 'Sides, it's me who should be asking where you were. I've been hangin' out here on my lonesome for hours now. Startin' to think ya don't love me no more little brother.”

 

“Nowhere. Out.”

 

“That so?” Merle grinned and cracked his knuckes. “Only I bumped into your boyfriend Shaun on my way here, and he said you'd gone to Atlanta to see a band. Since when do you go to see bands?”

 

“Since tonight.” Daryl put his glass in the sink and went towards his bedroom, but Merle stuck his arm out and stood close beside him, preventing him from going any further.

 

“You get some pussy? That why you're being so damn cagey with me? C'mon, tell ol' Merle what you've been up to… who you've been up to it with.”

 

Merle was often hard to deal with at the best of times, but when he was high he was impossible. Daryl knew how this was going to go. He'd wheedle and prod and would never let up until he got what he wanted.

“I was with Aisling. Nothin' happened though, just went to watch a band.”

 

“You an' Aisling, huh? I was wonderin' when you'd finally grow some balls and quit bein' such a fuckin' sissy. Why'd you take her to fuckin' Atlanta? Didn't want none of your boyfriends round here seein' you with a girl?”

 

“They're friends of Aisling's. She wanted some company going, that's all.”

 

“Ohhhh” Merle nodded “I get it. You're the hired muscle. Missy don't wanna be drivin' into Atlanta all on her lonesome, so she brings along the first lump of stupid she finds. You ain't no threat to her. Ain't as if you're gonna try'n get into her panties, now is it, Darylina.”

 

“Shut up, Merle.” Daryl tried again to get past his brother, but Merle had backed up against Daryl's bedroom door, barring his way.

 

“Aww no, I'm sorry, did I hurt your precious feelings? You didn't think this was a date or nothin', did you?” 

Merle looked closely into his face and Daryl twisted his head to the side, avoiding his brother's intense stare.

“Oh, you did! Well ain't you jus' plain adorable, thinkin' that a girl like that would want anything to do with your sorry pansy ass.” His voice raised in volume “You oughta' know by now that people like her don't give a shit about people like us!”

 

“She invited us to that damn open day thing, didn't she?” Daryl argued, trying to shove Merle away from his door.

 

“That's just the type of friendly lil' thing she is, baby brother, invitin' everyone places. That don't mean nothin'!” His mouth twitched up into a smirk and he leaned back against the door, crossing his arms against his chest “You know she's rollin' about with her titties out on the Internet? You know she was datin' some French singer or somethin' til recently? Why in the hell would she want the likes of you when she's had some fucking Frog prince doing freaky European shit to her pussy?”

 

Dary's high was well and truly gone, Merle having stomped all over it.

 

“She's a goddamn TV star, lil' brother. You're just some charity-case distraction while she's stuck here in Nut Sack, Georgia”

Pleased with his work, Merle stepped aside allowing Daryl to go into to his room and slam the door behind him.

_That's it, Merle. You gotta be cruel to be kind in this life. The boy can't go on thinkin' he stands a snowball's chance with a fine piece of ass like that. Nah, best stop it now before he gets sucked in further, get's his lil' heart broken an' becomes even more of a pussy._

“G'night, Darylina! No need to thank me! You have fun chokin' the chicken in there.”

 

“Fuck off, Merle!” Daryl yelled from the other side of the door.

 

Merle laughed, then winced as he rubbed his stomach and went back to the bathroom to sit down for another while.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note on Daryl's character in this story:  
> Obviously Daryl's upbringing was the same and has influenced his character a lot. He's still closed off, and reluctant to display vulnerability, but the changes in his back story have allowed him to develop into something like the Daryl we see in Season 3 of the show. (FYI That's also how I picture him, physically, for this story)  
> Merle hasn't had as big an influence on Daryl's character in this story. Daryl worked to pay for his dad's treatment, and through his work he developed a sense of responsibility and made good friends. Like we see in Season 3, when Daryl is at the prison, that he steps up to challenges and, with the help and influence of his friends, becomes a more open and straight-up man than the one we saw in Season 1.   
> He's not as surrounded by dysfunctional people and has experienced much more 'normal' interactions with his friends, making him less twitchy and distant around people.   
> The Daryl in my story is who I think could have evolved much sooner had he not been drifting around after Merle (as we know he did pre ZA in the show) and had some positive influences sooner in his life.  
> I hope this makes some sense :)


	7. Chapter 7

 

“Isn't that your friend Merle?” Jamie asked as he and Aisling entered the bar on Sunday with Sarah, a new actress on the show, and Heather from the Wardrobe department. Sure enough, there was Merle, loud and ebullient and very drunk, swaying on a bar stool on the other side of the room.

“Yeah...” Aisling felt her heart start to beat a little faster as she saw Daryl sitting beside him, downing a bottle of beer and holding out the empty to the bar tender for another. Merle whispered something to him and he looked over towards Aisling. She raised her hand slightly to wave, but he looked away, his face expressionless. Her hand dropped slowly back to her side.

 

Heather chose a table not far from the bar and Jamie went to get their drinks as they sat down. Aisling was confused. Her stomach lurched. What had happened? Why did he ignore her? She thought they'd had a good time together, and she really thought he liked her...

It was when she looked up at Jamie as he made his way back to the table that she saw the blonde girl at Daryl's side, leaning in close with her elbow on the bar and one hand on the back of his chair.

 

_Oh…_

 

If anyone was ever looking for the polar opposite of Aisling, it would have been this girl, with her curly blonde hair piled high on top of her head, and her little button nose that wrinkled slightly as she giggled close to Daryl's ear. She tugged slightly at the hem of her pink vest, revealing another inch or so of golden skin and the black lace trim of a leopard print bra.

_Looks like I'm not his type_ .

Aisling swallowed and looked down at her beer, wishing and praying that somehow the laws of physics would, in that instant, turn themselves inside out and allow her to have never come to this place tonight.

 

“I heard you took my little brother out on the town, Sweetheart.” Merle's voice surprised her from right by her ear as he squatted unsteadily beside her chair. Aisling nodded, not sure what to say. Merle carried an air of menace about him that she hadn't seen before, and she felt nervous. She didn't think he was going to physically hurt her, but she sensed that he was up to no good. “Y'see my pretty lil' colleen, the thing is Darylina's just not made for the good things in life. It ain't what he's used to, so he ain't got no real appetite for it. He's happy here with ol' Merle and what he knows.” He nodded his head towards the girl curling her tanned leg around the leg of Daryl's chair, her hand squeezing his thigh, her long neon pink and gold nails stroking the denim, whispering in his ear.

 

Aisling tried so, _so_ hard not to betray any emotion, but she knew her face had fallen and Merle had seen it. “Don't take it to heart, princess. Baby brother over there just ain't the high flying type.”

 

She didn't know what to say, so she just looked into Merle's grinning face with as much composure as she could muster and just nodded, feeling like an idiot. “Ok” she said quietly, and smiled. Her face was on fire. Merle patted her on the shoulder and lurched back to the bar, where he slapped Daryl on the back and said something quietly to him, before slapping him on the back and letting out a loud, throaty laugh.

 

Aisling couldn't stay. She felt stupid, and embarrassed, and sick. How had she been so stupid, falling for someone so hard in such a short space of time? She made an excuse about having a headache and left, the blonde girl still draped around Daryl as he finished another beer.

Merle didn't really _do_ sympathy, but as he watched Aisling leave, her face flushed and sad, he felt a flicker of something approaching it for a moment before he shrugged it off.

_That girl's wormin' her way into you now too Merle. She's a damn actress! Don't be buyin' her fuckin' sad face, s'what she's paid for._

_You're just bein' a good brother, lookin' out for Daryl, 'an stoppin' him from bein' hurt. Even if she is hot for his pansy ass she'll be gone soon enough, an' who'll have to pick up the pieces then? Ol' Merle, that's who. Hell have you got time for that shit._

 

Daryl's 'I Don't Give A Shit' front didn't penetrate any further than skin deep, watching Aisling in the mirror behind the bar as she got up from the table, spoke briefly to the people she was with, and left quickly. He felt like shit.

 

Getting drunk had seemed like a good way of taking his mind off things, but if anything it made him think about her even more. He knew Merle was right about one thing: If he felt like this about her now, how in the hell was he going to feel when she left. Because she _was_ leaving, and it was going to feel ten times worse when she did.

A lifetime of self-preservation was Daryl's greatest defense, and his worst weakness.

He put his bottle down on the counter, his appetite for beer now gone, and looked down at the pressure on his thigh. For the third or fourth time that evening he pushed Cassie's hand off his thigh and shrugged her away from him.

 

“C'mon, Daryl. Why don't we go outside, baby, get a little-”

 

Daryl spun round in his chair to face her, his lip curled in a snarl “I told you I ain't interested! Been tellin' you all damn evening! Now fuck off an' leave me the hell alone!”

He grabbed his jacket and stormed out.

 

The blonde shot a poisonous stare at Daryl's retreating back, smoothed her tiny denim skirt, and refocused her attentions on the skinny man sitting to the left of Daryl's empty chair. “Hey, Bobby! Wanna buy me a drink, sugar?”

 

Merle had seen Daryl's exit and slammed his bottle down hard on the bar “What the hell's that fuckin' pussy doin' now?” he muttered, following him out.

“Hey. Hey! Where you goin?” Merle caught up with him in the parking lot.

 

“Goin' home!” Daryl barked over his shoulder as he started walking in the direction of their house. He wanted to get out of there, away from everyone, and seeing as how he was too drunk to drive he may as well leave his truck and walk the couple of miles.

 

“This about Aisling?” Merle yelled after him “'Cause it's better this way, baby brother. Trust me!”

Daryl ignored him, still walking. “C'mon back in. You know Cassie's been itchin' after you for years. She'll do a real good of takin' your mind off that stuck up Irish bitch!”

 

Merle's voice got quieter as Daryl quickened his pace along the darkening street, away from everyone and everything wasn't giving him space to think.

 

*.*

 

Shaun and Daryl sat with their friend Chuck on Shaun's back porch late on Wednesday evening, smoking cigarettes and talking about work. Daryl didn't offer much to the conversation other than the occasional grunt, or “yeah”, instead just staring out at the trees behind the house and chewing on his thumbnail.

 

“Meant to ask if you have a good time at that show on Friday, Daryl?”

“What show?” Chuck asked, confused. Daryl didn't go to see 'shows'. All he did was fix cars, hang out at Shaun's or his place, and go to the bar.

“Went into Atlanta with a girl to watch a band, didn't you Daryl?” Shaun shot Chuck a sideways glance, then looked back to Daryl who just shrugged.

“What girl?” Chuck wasn't sure if Shaun was joking or not. Daryl didn't do dates as much as he didn't do shows. Hell, Daryl didn't do  _girls_ full stop, unless you counted the couple of drunken fumbles he knew about. “Who is she? You seein' her again?”

 

“Jus' some girl, an' I ain't her type.”

 

“How'd you know that, man? She tell you?” Shaun asked, quietly, concerned that his friend could have just been shot down before he'd even left the ground.

 

“She just ain't, alright!” Daryl exploded, surprising the two men sitting beside him. He stood up and paced to the end of the porch “I ain't wastin' my time chasin' after some chick who's into fucking musicians and artists and all that shit. I ain't kiddin' myself, and I don't want some pretentious bitch that ain't even gonna be here in a couple months usin' me as some kinda' distraction, messin' up my damn head!”

 

Shaun and Chuck glanced at each other, both recognizing Merle's words coming out of Daryl's mouth. It looked like Merle, for whatever reason he had this time, had knocked all the confidence out of him again. It happened less and less as the years went on, but every so often the older Dixon would take it upon himself to impart some of his own brutal brand of wisdom to his brother.

 

Shaun had got Daryl thinking about doing a course at the local school a couple of years back, so he could take charge of some of the ordering on the office computer. Daryl had filled in an application but Merle had found it, called him a 'fucking retard' who would fail it anyway, and that was the end of that. No matter how hard Shaun and Chuck had tried to persuade him otherwise, Daryl wasn't going to do the course and the matter was finished.

 

He knew that, on some level, Merle loved his brother and was acting out of some protective instinct to keep him from disappointment, but sometimes he honestly wished that Merle would disappear off on one of his blowouts some day and never come back.

 

“Hey,” Shaun watched Daryl chest quickly rise and fall after his outburst “easy, man. Just relax, ok?”

Daryl lit another cigarette and inhaled deeply, sucking the smoke deep into his lungs before exhaling a long, soothing stream.

 

“M'sorry. Shouldn't have gone off on you like that,” Daryl muttered “ain't your fault.”

Shaun laughed, quietly “I remember you guys havin' to put up with a hella lot of shoutin' from me when I met Corinne, remember?”

 

“Man, I still have the hole in my dry wall from that time she went back up to Richmond and you convinced your sorry ass she was gonna realize she was too damn good for you an' never come back.” Chuck nudged Shaun's ribs, playfully.

“I was  _so_ sure,” Shaun chuckled “I even stopped takin' her calls an' shit. Told myself I was doin' the right thing. Then you guys told me to get a hold 'a myself and I drove all the way to Virginia through the night to see her.”

 

Daryl remembered that weekend well. Corinne had finished up from UWG and went back to her folks in Virginia after graduation. She was pretty, rich, clever… Shaun never thought he stood a chance with her, and never expected her to come back, even though they'd been dating for two years and were clearly both mad about each other. They'd talked sense into Shaun and he'd gone to get her, come back to Goat Rock with her and marrying less than a year later.

 

Daryl knew that would never happen with him and Aisling, though. She really _wasn't_ going to be coming back.

 

“Would have been a damn shame to let go of a fine woman that seemed to like my ornery ass just because of what might have happened in the future.” Shaun looked in through the window at his wife, asleep on the sofa with a book on her chest, and smiled. He never stopped thanking God for giving him the cajones to listen to reason and go after her.

 


	8. Chapter 8

_Bloody useless stupid bloody buggering thing!_

Aisling kicked the wheel of the Cherokee, in the vain hope that kicking the wheels of broken down vehicles while swearing at them made them spark miraculously back into life.

She was stranded in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot, in the pouring rain, with a stupid bloody car, a flat cell phone and a rage building inside her.

 

She'd been in a vile mood all week, with Andy's unreliability becoming more of a problem, and the stifling heat making wearing her costume unbearable. The rain hammering down on her back and shoulders as she struggled to get the hood up didn't improve her mood at all.

She glanced up as a large blue pickup truck pulled up alongside her and the window rolled down.

 

“Get in.”

 

_Oh, well isn't that just fucking brilliant._

Aisling shot Daryl a withering look and snapped “I'm fine!” as she tried again to open the hood.

He'd seen her as he'd driven past and swung the car around to go help. She looked tiny beside the huge car, her hair pasted to her face.

 

“Get in, Aisling, you're getting' soaked! I'll get it sorted.”

 

Realizing that the car wasn't going anywhere and she was miles from her house she grabbed her bags of groceries, locked the car and climbed begrudgingly into Daryl's truck.

“Where you goin'?” he asked, starting up the engine.

 

“1252 Old Mill Road.” She sighed in defeat and tucked her damp legs up underneath her body.

 

Daryl drove in silence. Aisling stared at the rain running down the window to her right, watching rivulets run together and down the glass.

 

He pulled up in the small driveway outside the ranch-style house she rented, still staring at the windscreen in front of him. As she went to get out, still damp from the rain, he reached out and held her upper arm to stop her.

“Wait up a minute.” She turned in her seat to face him and waited for him to speak.

 

“I'm sorry. 'Bout ignorin' you at the bar on Sunday.”

 

“Why'd you do it?”

 

Daryl hadn't expected her to be so forthright, and was taken aback for a moment. “Merle got into my head, tellin' me that the likes of you didn't really wanna be hangin' with the likes of me.”

“And Merle's an authority on what I want to do?”

 

Merle's words flooded back to him “Ain't like your friends though, am I, fucking kissing and hugging and all? I ain't an actor, ain't in a band, don't do cool shit. Don't want to be some kind of pity project for some bored rich bitch.” The words were out before he could stop them.

 

“So, you've met some of my brother's friends and you've got me all sussed? That's what you think of me?” she asked, her face flushed and her eyes huge and glistening. She shook her head sadly. “Today just gets better and better.”

 

_Fuck! I got a real knack for saying the wrong fuckin' thing What the hell is wrong with me?_

 

She opened the car and he watched her walk up towards the house, trying to fish her keys from her jeans pocket while holding the grocery sacks, and getting wetter and wetter as the rain lashed down on her.

Daryl ran his hands over his face and debated following her or not. A slight movement at the front door caught his eye. It was open, the breeze catching it slightly. He leaped from the car and ran quickly up to her.

“Hey! What...” Aisling jumped as Daryl pushed her back against the wall of the house and crept quickly up to the blue front door.

 

 _What the hell is he doing? This man is… wait, I closed the door_ _properly_ _earlier… didn't I_?

The lock on the door was tricky, and Aisling had to pull it hard behind her, twisting the key a certain way to get it to close properly. She'd left in a rush this morning, and realized that she probably hadn't done it quite right.

 

Daryl gently pushed the front door open enough to allow him a view of inside and saw two young men moving through the living room. “Hey! What the fuck you think you're doin'?!” he yelled, his voice loud and rough.

 

The men spun around to face him and instantly bolted towards him, one escaping past him and down the driveway as the other wildly swung a punch that collided with Daryl's head, knocking him briefly off balance and spinning him back into the open door.

 

Aisling stood frozen in the rain, holding her shopping bags, watching the two men disappear down the drive and out of sight. Her mind hadn't had a chance to catch up with the events of the past few seconds.

Nervously, she approached the front door and saw Daryl leaning back against the inside wall, breathing heavily, his hand pressed against a spot on his hairline. A small trickle of blood ran from beneath his fingers towards his right eyebrow.

“Jesus, Daryl!” Aisling gasped and dropped the bags on the floor before she tried to take his hand away from his head to inspect the damage.

 

“S'fine. Just a scratch,” he huffed, pulling away and shrugging her off “you should call the cops.”

 

“That can wait a moment,” she said, firmly “Come here.” Aisling wrapped her small fingers round his wrist and led him gently across the living room to the small kitchen area. “Sit,” she pointed to a chair at the kitchen table and went across to the sink, tearing off a few sheets of kitchen paper and wetting them under the faucet.

 

“I'm fine!” he protested as she lifted his hand away from his head and pushed his soft dark hair back from his face to assess the damage. She dabbed carefully with the wet kitchen paper, clearing away the blood from his forehead, and peered at the cut.

Daryl felt heat rise in his cheeks as her cool, soft fingers lightly touched his skin. He watched her lips pout slightly as she concentrated, and he quickly looked away again.

 

“You'll live,” she said softly and looked down at him with a small smile “but you've got to apply some pressure to that.” She went back over to the counter and tore off another few sheets of kitchen paper, and folded them into a thick pad which she handed to him. “Here, press this on it.”

Daryl did as he was told, watching her as she hesitantly made her way around the room.

 

“It doesn't look like they had time to take anything...” Her laptop was still charging on the small desk in the living room, partially obscured by the folder of scripts that lay on top of it, and she could see her brown leather camera bag still tucked behind the sofa.

 

The realization of what could have happened if she'd walked into the house on her own was slowly dawning on her. “If you hadn't seen the open door I would have just walked in on them...”

 

“Jus' wish I hadn't let 'em get away” he half growled, angry at having been unable to stop the situation and embarrassed at how the two younger men surprised and evaded him.

 

“You could have been badly hurt, Daryl.” Aisling walked back over to him and carefully lifted the pad of paper towels, inspecting the bleeding. “What you did was so brave,” her fingers gently brushed his cheekbone and she smiled softly at him “Thank you.”

 

His eyes met hers for a moment before he shook his head slightly and looked down at his lap, bashfully. “Ain't brave. Did what anyone would've done. Didn't want you goin' in, getting' hurt.”

 

*.*

 

 

A nearby patrol was dispatched, and Officers Wallace and Ingram arrived quickly. They looked around and spoke to Aisling and Daryl about what had happened.

 

The only things that Aisling noticed missing were a gold colored chain with an enamel peacock feather hanging from it, and a ring set with a large blue glass stone. She'd bought them for £4 in a thrift store in London and wouldn't miss them, but couldn't help feeling annoyed that _they_ had taken them from her. Things could have been so much worse, so she put the feeling of irritation to one side and focused on being grateful for the way things had worked out.

 

_Nothing of any importance was taken. I am safe. Daryl is safe… and so brave._

 

“How's Merle?” Office Wallace asked, looking under the paper towel pad at Daryl's injured head “Haven't seen him in a while. He behavin'?”

 

Daryl shrugged “Merle's Merle. I ain't his keeper.”

 

Both officers Ingram and Wallace had met Merle many, many times in the past, but their dealings with Daryl had been few, and mostly limited to occasions where they'd questioned him about his brother, or when he'd been present as Merle was either taken in or let back out. Ingram's son worked Saturdays at Shaun's repair shop, so he'd met the gruff man a few times and had no problem with him. He was hard working, good at his job, and kept himself to himself.

 

“Looks like they'd only just gotten in when you arrived back. You're lucky Daryl was here, M'am,” Office Wallace said as they prepared to leave, satisfied that they had all they needed, the property could be secured and that Daryl didn't need any emergency medical treatment.

 

“I know,” Aisling looked at Daryl, who blushed deeply at all the sudden positive attention on his actions “I owe him, big time.”

 

She saw the officers to the door. Ingram paused a moment when he saw Daryl's truck outside “Probably not a good idea to drive that tonight, Daryl, after the knock on the head. 'Specially in this weather.”

 

“I would drive him, but my car's unconscious in the Piggly Wiggly car park” Aisling explained, feeling useless that she couldn't help the man who had come to her rescue.

“Oh! You can stay here tonight!” she blurted out, looking back over her shoulder at Daryl, nervously biting her lower lip as she added “...if you want?”

 

“Good idea!” called Wallace as he got into the patrol car, “Wouldn't hurt to have someone here with you tonight anyway.”

 

Aisling closed the door, pushing it hard and making sure that this time she did it correctly.

Daryl was standing close behind her when she turned around, making her jump and let out the cutest little squeak he'd ever heard. She noticed his keys in his hand “Where are you going?”

“I don't have'ta stay, Aisling. S'ok… I'm fine.”

 

“You just got punched in the head, you're not fine!”

 

“Had worse.”

 

Aisling sighed and her shoulders dropped. “Look, if you really want to go I can't stop you. I'd feel happier if you stayed though.” She looked up at him, her green eyes seeming bigger than ever, almost pleading with him. “I don't especially want to be on my own here tonight, and I hate the idea of you driving in that rain, especially when you got hit protecting me.”

_I can't say no to this girl. Damn… those eyes. She's got me wrapped roun' her lil' finger._

“Fine,” Daryl sighed deeply “I'll stay… if it'll shut you up.” He smirked and bumped his hip lightly against hers, letting her know that he was teasing.

 

“Thank you!” Aisling giggled and picked the grocery sacks up from where she'd left them on the floor earlier. “You eaten?”

Daryl shook his head, and at the mention of eating his stomach growled loudly in affirmation.

“Pizza ok?” she called over, stacking the food away in cupboards and the fridge.

“Pizza's fine.”

 

He wandered over to where she was, looking around the room as he went. He knew the house wasn't hers, but there were traces of her scattered around, and his keen eyes took them in. The haphazard pile of scripts spilling from the folder on the desk. A pair of red strappy sandals kicked off near the sofa, beside a pair of black and white stripy patterned flats with pointy black toes.

On the table by the sofa lay a couple of books about the Civil War, one of them open with a notebook on top, it's pages covered in scribbled notes.

 

Aisling put the pizza in the oven and poured them each a glass of red wine, handing one to him “As you aren't driving now...”

Daryl took the glass and she clinked her own gently against it “To my hero!” She said, smiling shyly up at him. He snorted, but the corner of his mouth twitched up into a small smile.

 

“Do you want to call anyone, let them know you're here?” she asked, taking a sip of wine and walking over to the sofa to sit down. Daryl followed her. “Nah, ain't nobody gonna be lookin' for me.” He sat down on the other side of the sofa, putting a generous space between them.

 

“What about Merle? Or your… um, your girlfriend?”

 

His brow creased in confusion “Girlfriend?”

 

“The girl in the bar...” Aisling looked down at the wine glass in her hand, feeling the same nauseous feeling creep across her stomach that she'd felt when she'd seen Daryl and the blonde together in the bar.

 

“Who?” He squinted at her, genuinely baffled.

 

“The blonde girl… you were with a blonde girl...” Aisling said quietly, wishing she hadn't said anything at all. Why was he making this harder for her?

 

“Cassie?! She ain't my girlfriend!” Daryl spluttered, wiping wine from his mouth with the back of his hand “Some dumb skank wrappin' herself round me, beggin' for a fuck at the end of the night? Ain't no way I'm touching that! That's Merle's style, not mine.”

 

“Oh...” Aisling bit her lower lip hard to stop the relieved smile that threatened to burst out and spread itself across her face. He didn't like that girl! He hadn't chosen that girl over her! She felt like a giddy teenager, with excitement bubbling inside her. Perhaps what had happened on Sunday really was a case of huge insecurity, nerves, and self-preservation on Daryl's part?

 

“You really thought she was my girlfriend? Man..”

 

“Merle kind of… implied as such. He came over for a little chat in the bar.”

 

His piercing stare met hers and he bit at his lip for a moment. “You an' I need to stop listenin' to the shit my brother says.”

 

*.*

 

“How come you moved away from Ireland?”

The wine was helping Daryl relax a little. He sank further back into the sofa in something approaching contentment, his belly full of pizza and Aisling beside him, her small feet resting on the pillow between them.

 

“Work. Getting good roles in Ireland can be tough, because there isn't as much going on...”

 

He watched her as she spoke, how her lips moved, the expressions on her face. She used her hands a lot when she was talking.

 

Conversation had come surprisingly easily to Daryl when he was with Aisling. They talked about so many things that evening. Nothing earth shattering, nothing deep, just two people getting to know each other, but for Daryl it was all very new. He'd even laughed a few times, like when she'd talked about a commercial she made early in her career where she had to eat so many sausages that she'd thrown up.

He couldn't remember ever talking with anyone this much before, offering information about himself, asking questions.

Aisling craned her neck to see the clock on the wall behind her, and as she did her body stretched out and she yawned, nudging Daryl's thigh with her toes.

 

“Bedtime, I think. You can stay up and watch television if you want?”

 

“Nah, I'm pretty tired.”

 

“I'll show you to your room then,” she stood up and went over to the front door “but I just want to check this first.” She inspected the lock, gave the door a good shove, then when she was satisfied she switched off the lights, leaving the small lamp near the door lit, and turned to Daryl. He had put the empty wine bottle and glasses by the kitchen sink and was now standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room. “This way” she said, leading the way up the stairs with Daryl following behind, enjoying the view of her round, firm ass in front of him.

 

At the top of the stairs she stopped, and they stood close together in the small hallway. “That's the bathroom,” she waved a hand at one door, “that's me,” she gestured to the next “… and this is you.” She opened the door next to hers and flipped the light switch, revealing a fairly plain bedroom with a queen sized bed against one wall and some luggage stacked in the corner.

 

“If you wake before me make yourself at home. Just help yourself to whatever you want.” Her eyes shone in the dim light as she looked up at him. “Thank you again, Daryl, for today.”

He loved the way his name sounded, coming from her mouth.

 

She leaned closer, reached up and kissed him gently, aiming for his cheek but landing on the mole by his mouth. His facial hair was scratchy beneath her lips and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

 

Daryl wasn't breathing. His entire body was rigid, apart from his heart which pounded so loudly in his chest that he thought she might hear it in the quiet of the hallway.

He longed to grab her, push her back against the wall and slam his mouth against hers, but he couldn't move. His eyes flickered to her mouth and back up to her eyes, and he nodded quickly and went into his room, letting out a slow wavering breath that he had been holding for too long.

 

Aisling lay in bed, thinking about the man on the other side of the wall. She'd kissed enough people in her life to know when someone wanted to kiss her, and she was sure he had been thinking about it.

_God, I wish he had_ .

She had wanted to kiss him too, but was afraid that making the wrong move would freak him out. He was insecure and uncertain enough about their… this… whatever it was, blowing hot and cold and confusing her. Lunging at him could send him running in the opposite direction, and she didn't want that to happen.

 

Daryl lay on his back in bed in the next room, his arms folded up behind his head, staring at the ceiling. This was all so new. He didn't have _moves_. He didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do.

 

He'd been with two women in his life, and on both occasions he had been so drunk he was hardly able to stand. The women had initiated things, and his role in events had been purely perfunctory. He remembered very little about them apart from that it had felt a bit better than jerking off alone. No clothing was removed, that he could remember, he had no desire to make them feel good, and the sex itself was purely a physical action that his body had performed, like sneezing or yawning.

 

When he thought about Aisling, that was not how he wanted things at all. He didn't want her to be some drunken fuck against the back of a truck, but that was all that he knew. He wanted to give her something that he, honestly, had no idea how to give.

 


	9. Chapter 9

"Fuck! Ow! OWWW!"

Daryl woke up to the sound of a crash in Aisling's kitchen. He leaped out of bed, his first instinct to run downstairs thinking that the two guys from last night had returned, but as he reached the door he heard her cell phone ring and her voice answer it.

"Hi! No, I was up… yeah… yeah…"

He sat down heavily on the side of the bed, relieved. She sounded fine. No burglars.

Looking down at his lap he noticed the morning wood tenting his shorts.  _Good thing I didn' go sprintin' down there._

He waited a few minutes for things to subside, then pulled on his jeans and tshirt and padded softly down the stairs on bare feet.

 

Aisling was sitting on the kitchen counter in a pair of blue sleep shorts and a white vest, holding her foot in her hands and talking on the phone gripped between a raised shoulder and her ear. Her long dark hair was twisted into a loose bun on top of her head, tendrils falling out around her face. He'd seen those pictures of her all dressed up at different events, but to him she looked even prettier like this, sleep mussed and rumpled.

He tried not to look at her body but couldn't help it. She wasn't wearing a bra, he could tell, and he wondered what the generous swell of her breasts would feel like in his hands.

_She gave me a bed for the night 'cause she didn't wanna be alone. Can't go undressin' her with my eyes now, like Merle or his friends would._

He looked at his feet, chewing his lip.

 

"Look, I have to go. I'll check my emails, yeah…. ok… yeah... speak to you later, Sue, bye!"

She took the phone from her ear, hung up, and put it on the table.

 

"Morning!" she smiled brightly at him.

"You hurt your foot?"

She nodded and pointed to the heavy skillet lying on the floor. "Dropped that bloody thing on my toe."

Daryl stood in front of her and carefully took her foot in his hands. "My turn to be nurse" he squinted up at her with sleepy eyes through his messed up hair and smirked, prodding her toes with his calloused fingers. "Wiggle 'em?"

She obliged.

"Ain't gonna die, then." He dropped her foot quickly back into her lap.

"What were you doin'?" he asked, looking around at the scene before him, eggs and butter on the counter, a spatula by the stove, and the skillet on the floor.

"I was trying to bring peace to the Middle East." Daryl looked at her as if she'd gone mad. "What does it look like I was doing?! I was going to make us some breakfast" she said, wincing as she got back down off the counter and put her foot gingerly on the floor.

"Sit there, I'll do it" he said firmly, picking up the skillet and placing on top of the stove. Aisling did as she was told and hopped back up onto the counter, her ankles hooked around each other, feet gently swinging to and fro.

"I'll do the toast then. Throw me the bread." Daryl gave her the package of bread, noticing that it was bread from a bakery with seeds in it, not the usual cheap white bread he and Merle had at home.

_Even her damn bread's classy._

 

"Did you sleep well?" she asked, watching with interest as he rummaged about in a cupboard until he found a bowl.

"Yeah. Did you?"

"Yep. Thanks for staying over. I don't think I'd have slept a wink on my own in the house."

"S'nothin'" he gave her a little half smile, then beat the eggs he'd cracked into the bowl with a fork, and poured in a little milk he got from the fridge.

"Do you cook a lot? You seem to know what you're doing..." she wiggled her hand at the skillet as he poured the eggs in and started stirring them about with a spoon.

"Ain't nobody else gonna cook for me. Could die eatin' somethin' Merle made."

 

Aisling had always found it very attractive when a man knew his way around a kitchen. Her ex-boyfriend Sébastien, had been an amazing cook, learning from his Mum and older sisters as he grew up, watching them in their tiny Paris kitchen. She would frequently arrive at his apartment to find cassoulets bubbling happily, or rubber-banded lobsters looking back at her from the bottom of the fridge, waiting to go in the pot. She hadn't been surprised when, a few weeks after they had decided to call it quits on the relationship, she found herself missing his cooking more than him.

"Let's eat outside. It's not too hot yet." Aisling hopped down from the counter grabbing a tray, and stacked it with mugs, knives and forks, the toast, milk and the coffee pot, then walked carefully outside balancing everything.

Daryl followed with two plates of eggs and placed them on the table outside, beside the tray.

 

"Nice yard" he said, nodding. The garden was well kept, with the deck and a small in-ground pool, and backed onto the woods.

"Yeah, it's cool having somewhere to sit in the mornings with my coffee. I don't have anything like this in London."

"How's the foot?" he asked taking a mouthful of toast and eggs.

"All better, thank you Doctor Daryl."

"Whatcha doin' today? Got plans?" he offered her a cigarette when they'd finished breakfast and were sitting enjoying the sunny Saturday morning on the deck.

"I have to sort out my car..." she said, lighting her cigarette and exhaling slowly.

"Don't have to do nothin', s'all done." He poured them each another mug of coffee, and explained "I texted my friend Shaun last night, when you were talkin' to the cops. He picked your car up this mornin' an' your rental company's gonna drop you off a replacement today."

Her eyes widened "You're kidding me?! That's brilliant, thank you so much!"

Daryl shrugged, her praise warming his face and belly. He liked that his actions had made her happy.

"Well," she leaned back in her seat, stretching her long legs out in front of her, and relaxed, closing her eyes "in that case I have nothing at all to do today."

"Wanna go huntin'?" The words were out before he realized he'd said them, and for a second he wished he hadn't, thinking that this was too much and he was crowding her. He'd already spent the night at her house and now he was asking if she wanted to spend the afternoon with him killing things in the woods. He might not have had much experience with women, but Daryl knew enough to realize that 'Hey, let's go kill n' gut shit' probably wasn't a great segue to a great afternoon out for most women.

He chewed his lip, anxiously.

"With you?" Aisling was surprised by his invitation, but she didn't look annoyed, or like she was disgusted or trying to think of a way out of it. To Daryl it looked like she might actually be entertaining the idea, and his confidence grew a little.

"Naw, with Mrs Troutman my kindergarten teacher." His bare foot lightly kicked hers under the table "Yeah, with me."

"I'd  _love_  to!" Aisling clapped her hands and bounced excitedly in her seat. "Sure I won't get in the way?"

"S'long as you don't go clappin' an' bouncin' when we're out there, yeah."

Aisling blushed, realizing she'd being doing the 'happy walrus' thing her Mum used to always tell her off for, and tucked her hands under her thighs.

"I won't clap, or bounce. Promise."

 

*.*

 

If someone had told Aisling two months ago that she'd spend an afternoon creeping around the forests of Georgia behind a man with a crossbow, and that she'd have the best time doing it, she would have laughed in their face.

That's exactly what happened though. She loved every minute of their afternoon together. Watching Daryl, with his careful, precise movements, was both thrilling and calming at the same time. It made her try to find a measure to her own footsteps and actions.

She followed behind him, as quietly as she could, watching him read patterns on the forest floor that she couldn't see. He stopped at one point and grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer "What do you see?" he whispered, pointing at the leaves beneath them.

Aisling bent down and looked at the earth, spotting a small mark in the soil. "Is it a footprint?" she answered quietly, "something small, like a rabbit?"

"S'exactly what it is" his voice was close to her ear, his breath on her skin.

"C'mon" he pulled her wrist again and she followed him for a few yards before he raised the crossbow suddenly and the thrum of the bolt released into the air beside her made her jump slightly.

Before them, on a mattress of leaves, lay a small rabbit. A bolt protruded from it's head, just below it's ears, and Daryl stepped forward quickly to collect his kill.

"Is it dead?" she whispered, watching the animal's hind legs twitch slightly.

"It's dead. Jus' nerves." He glanced across at her, hoping that she wasn't squeamish, but her eyes were wide with fascination, eager to learn.

As they made their way back to the truck, Daryl carrying a couple more rabbits, he stopped every so often to point out different tracks to her.

They were about to clear the woods when he stopped suddenly, and she collided with his back. He turned to her, placing his finger to his lips, then placed his hand on the small of her back and pulled her close, pointing to a spot in the distance.

Between the trees Aisling could just make out a deer – judging from the lack of antlers she guessed it was a doe – and a fawn, just ahead through the trees.

His eyes scanned the ground beneath them and spotted something, pointing to two sets of tracks in the ground beneath them that looked almost like butterflies to her. Deer tracks.

They watched them for a while. Daryl didn't remove his hand from her back, his fingers never moving, just resting on her t-shirt, keeping her still.

She turned to face him, and smiled, before looking back to watch the mother and child ahead until they moved away, out of sight.

"Why didn't you kill the deer?" she asked later, watching him pull the skin off a rabbit as he sat on the steps of the deck in her garden. "Ain't deer season, yet" he muttered. He was concentrating on the small creature now laying exposed in front of him.

"Wanna try?" he asked, noticing her peering over his shoulder as he pulled out his knife ready to cut. Aisling nodded, so he handed the knife to her and moved over slightly to allow her better access to the rabbit lying on the deck.

"Make a small cut, go real light. Don't wanna cut the guts or bladder, it'll ruin the meat."

She did as instructed, concentrating hard on the feeling of the flesh under the knife. Daryl took her hand and showed her how to hold the skin away from the rabbit's intestines and open the ribcage and pelvis.

"Ok, now get through that membrane… that's it" He held her fore and middle fingers out and pressed them close to the rabbit's spine, then dragged them down in a scooping motion, pulling the intestines and organs out onto the deck in one motion.

"I did it?"

Daryl's couldn't help but smile at the look of achievement and disbelief on her face. "Did good," he nodded.

She stood up and disappeared into the house, leaving Daryl to wonder what she was doing. A minute later she reappeared, with clean hands and her camera.

"What'cha doin'?" he froze, eyeing her nervously, his shoulders stiff. "Ignore me," she said, sitting beside him and crossing her legs "I'm only looking at your hands."

He relaxed a little and picked up the second rabbit. She asked him questions about the rabbits, and hunting, as he worked, and her camera clicked occasionally.

"How many tattoos do you have?" she asked, pointing to the star on his hand.

"Couple on my shoulder, one on my arm, one on my chest." He didn't look up from what he was doing, so Aisling carried on taking photos.

"Can I see them?" she asked, pretty sure that he would say no, but asking all the same.

"Not today" was all he said, and started dressing the last rabbit he'd caught today.

"What about yours? When did you get it done?" he asked, referring to the feather he'd seen on her hip in the video.

Aisling raised an eyebrow at him and he froze.

 _Shit. Wasn't meant to know 'bout that_.

He scooped the rabbit carcasses into his arms and stood up, his face flushed, avoiding her stare.

"Gotta go" was all he said, striding off round the deck to the front of the house and his truck.

She heard the engine start up then move away, and all the while she just sat there, wondering what the hell had just happened.

It wasn't until later, when she was in bed, that it struck her. He knew that she had a tattoo. The only place that her tattoo was visible was in the Charlotte Kings video. All the other shoots she'd done with her clothes off had all edited out the feather, that she knew of, so to have seen it, he must have Googled her.

The thought made Aisling smile to herself. He'd looked her up, watched her in his own time, away from her. Being caught out had obviously embarrassed him enough to clam up and leave, which was disappointing, but Aisling didn't mind that too much. He'd looked her up. He was interested.


	10. Chapter 10

_The hell am I doin' here? They ain't gonna let me in. Shoulda got her damn number, instead of buggin' her at work._

Daryl was about to turn around and walk back to his truck, parked just outside the gates to the plantation, when the Asian security guard who had relayed his request go up to see Aisling received a crackling message on his walkie talkie. "Go on up, they're by the farmhouse. You know the way?"

Daryl nodded and walked up the road towards the house where there were lots of people with equipment hanging around outside.

 

"Daryl!" he heard her call his name. He spotted her waving at him from the porch of the farmhouse, and she walked quickly over towards him. She was wearing that same long dress she'd worn on the open day, and her hair was disheveled, with dirt smudged on her cheek and forehead.

"You been fightin'?" he asked, pointing to her hand which was scratched and caked with dried blood.

"I have! Looks good, doesn't it!" she said, holding it up for him to admire "I've been kicking Andy's arse all morning."

As she said his name Andy came out of the cottage, looking rather beaten up himself, rolled his eyes and walked off quickly in the direction of the trailers across the yard. "He still bein' a prick?" Daryl asked, nodding at him.

Aisling nodded, then shrugged "It makes punching him easier."

Remembering why he was here, Daryl cleared his throat and adjusted his feet nervously. "You got plans for the holiday?"

It took a moment for Aisling to realize what he meant. To her, a holiday was what he would call a vacation. It was the end of June and the conversation on set had been about the 4th July celebrations, bringing with them a handful of party invitations. She guessed that this was what Daryl was referring to, and shook her head. "Haven't decided what to do. Why?"

 

Shaun had quizzed Daryl about the burglary that morning at work, asking how Aisling was and if there was anything he could do?

"Why don't you bring her along on Friday?" Shaun was hosting his and Corinne's usual 4th July get-together at their house, with food, music and fireworks.

"She's probably got plans already" Daryl huffed, and went back to screwing a new oil filter onto the Ford he was underneath.

"Won't know 'til you ask" Shaun replied.

 

That was how Daryl came to be at the plantation, focusing on the trees beside him rather than look at Aisling, asking as casually as he was able to, "Wanna come to my friend Shaun's house w'me? He's doin' some party shit."

He looked down at her to gauge her reaction and let out a small sigh of relief when he saw her smile.

"Party shit sounds good."

He gave a small nod and stood there for a moment, not sure what to say next. "Sorry for botherin' you here... I'd have called but I don't have your number."

"You aren't bothering me. Give me your phone." she held her hand out and he gave her a confused look before handing his old battered phone to her. She tapped at the screen quickly for a few moments and handed it back to him,"Now you have my number."

 

*.*

 

Aisling was never more ready to relax and let her hair down as she was on Friday. It had been a sweltering week, filled with more physical activity than she'd felt able for in the heat. Her character Ellen had been thrown by a horse, fought with Andy's character Aiden lots, and been chased across a field in the dark. She'd tripped and fallen many times shooting that scene, leaving her bruised and exhausted.

She wore a blue sundress with little white triangles all over it, a pair of flat white sandals, and left her long hair down. She looked at herself in the mirror and twisted around to see as much of her body as she could. Bruises all covered. She wasn't sure what everyone else would be wearing, but her career had given Aisling the confidence to know what suited her, and to wear what she wanted.

Growing up, her Mum's constant 'helpful suggestions' had worn her down and made her feel self-conscious when meeting people. As far as her mother was concerned, everyone was watching and their opinion mattered. When a teenaged Aisling turned up at events in sneakers with a vintage dress, or Doc Martins and a tutu, her Mum would glare at her before pulling her to one side and asking if she wanted everyone to laugh at them? If she really wanted everyone to think that she was ridiculous?

Everything that Aisling did was open to scrutiny, from her clothes, to her laugh, and even though her Mum peddled her criticism as 'love', Aisling didn't feel very loved.

It was only when she began working and forging her own way in the world that Aisling began to realise that she really didn't give a flying fuck what other people thought.

One or two neurosis she'd instilled still hung around, but Aisling had largely grown up, and left her Mum's second hand maladjustments behind.

 

*.*

 

When Shaun welcomed them at his door he clasped a strong arm around her shoulders and said that he was happy to finally meet her. He was perhaps in his early forties, short dark hair sprinkled with gray around his temples, and kind blue eyes. His wife Corinne had been less reserved, grabbing Aisling's hand and pulling her into the kitchen, thanking her for the gifts of Irish Whiskey, a pack of Georgia craft beers, and a tray of patriotically decorated cupcakes she'd picked up from a bakery recommended by friends.

Daryl wished that he'd thought to bring something else along other than the Canola oil that Shaun had asked him to bring in a text that morning, because he'd forgotten to get more and Corinne was worried that they would run out. He felt slightly ashamed as he realized that he had always been a shitty guest, and made a mental note not to turn up to things empty handed again.

 

If Aisling was nervous about being thrust into a large group of people she didn't know, she didn't show it at all. She shook hands with people, smiling broadly, making sure to ask their name. Shaun's dad, Patrick, was especially taken with her. She sat on a seat in front of his wheelchair as they talked about his beloved Wexford that he'd left as a child, and Daryl watched the old man's eyes light up as they talked about filming 'Wild Geese' and why Georgia had been chosen as the location.

 

"Got a good one there, Daryl" Chuck said quietly as he stood next to him and opened a beer.

"Just a friend" he replied, nodding at Aisling and giving her a little half smile as her eyes caught his across the yard. She was enthusiastically admiring the red, white and blue ribbons in Paige's hair, as the little girl climbed up into her Grandpa's lap in his chair, and asked if Paige could help her get her own hair so pretty?

"Doesn't have to be like that though, Daryl" Shaun said from his other side, watching the actress bend her head down so that Paige could braid a section of her long dark hair. He'd seen how they looked at each other, and the glances they stole when they didn't think that the other was looking. It brought back memories of when he first met Corinne, the clever, beautiful college student, and how the friends he stood with now had watched them both exchange those same glances and tried to persuade him to do something about it.

He'd been too afraid to do anything for weeks, thinking that as soon as he did she would bolt and he would be proved right, that she couldn't possibly want him. But he had made a move, one night as he dropped her back to her dorm after a movie, and since that night he knew he wanted no other lips on his.

Shaun wanted his unassured, brooding friend than for him to find that same kind of connection. Daryl's life had been hard, and so damaging. He deserved happiness, and this pretty, sparkling woman was the only person he'd ever seen bring him close to that.

"She's goin' in September," Daryl sighed beside him, taking a drink of the whiskey that Aisling had brought. "In too deep as it is. How the hell am I supposed to handle it when she goes?" Chuck looked at Shaun behind Daryl's back, his eyebrows shooting up at his friend's uncharacteristic openness.

"I dunno," Shaun replied, honestly "but how you gonna feel if she goes and you've done nothin'?"

Daryl swirled the amber liquid in his glass before he downed it and shook his head. "Ain't used to this. Too many damn feelins'."

 

 

Aisling helped Corinne in with all the plates after everyone had eaten. Paige tagged along, happy that Aisling had given her the special job of carrying the ketchup and mustard.

"Are you going to marry Uncle Daryl?" Paige asked, making Corinne grin and Aisling splutter. "Why do you ask that, Princess Paige?" she asked, watching through the kitchen window as Daryl held a giggling Stevie upside down by his ankles, threatening to dip his head in imaginary dog poop.

"He's never brought a lady to our house before, and when my Uncle Charlie brought a lady to our house they got married, and I got to carry flowers."

Aisling stole a glance at Corinne, who was smiling as she stacked the plates in the dishwasher.

"I bet you were the prettiest girl there. Tell me, were the flowers beautiful?"

Paige told Aisling all about the flowers, and dresses, and how she had to get up really early for a lady to put her hair up in a fancy way.

"Nice deflection," Corinne leaned over and whispered with a grin as Paige showed Aisling how nicely she'd walked in the church when her Uncle got married. Aisling rolled her eyes jokingly and went to carry the train of Paige's imaginary dress as she walked back outside to show how she would walk when she got maried to her classmate Mikey when she was older.

 

 

The day grew dark and Shaun went with his nephew Conor to set up the fireworks at the far end of the yard.

"Having fun?" Aisling's soft voice came from beside Daryl as he stood on the porch and he looked down at her with one of his little half smiles. "S'been ok, yeah. You?"

She nodded and shivered slightly in the chill of the evening. Daryl, emboldened slightly by whiskey and the dull ache he'd felt in his stomach when Shaun asked how he'd feel if she left without him ever doing anything, reached out his arm and gently wrapped it around Aisling's shoulders. "C'mere" he said gruffly and pulled her close to his side.

The butterflies in both their bellies at that moment caused each of them to flush slightly. Aisling leaned her head against Daryl's shoulder, enjoying the weight of his muscular arm around her. "Thank you for inviting me here, Daryl. I've had such a lovely day." She tilted her head slightly to smile up at him. "Haven't seen much of you," he said, giving her one of those little half smiles she loved so much "They've been keepin' you all to themselves."

Neither of them noticed Chuck nudging Corinne and nodding his head over towards the two standing quietly on the porch. Corinne stifled a little happy squeal, then pulled her phone out from her pants pocket and went round to the front of the porch.

"Smile!" she said brightly, and held the phone up to take a picture. Daryl groaned and Aisling felt his arm tense around her shoulders. He clearly hated being photographed. Aisling tried wiggling her fingers lightly at his waist, in an attempt to tickle a smile out of him, but the most he could muster was a pursed lip half smirk. It was better than the glower he'd had aimed at her a moment before, so Corinne was happy and took the picture.

Aisling asked Corinne to send it to her and gave her number. A moment later her phone pinged to let her know that it had arrived, so she took out her phone and held it out for both her and Daryl to see. He leaned forward slightly to look, his arm still around her shoulders, and gave a quiet shudder.

"Look like a prick" he grunted.

"I thought I looked alright in it, actually" Aisling deadpanned, staring up into his face. Daryl's eyes widened for a moment in alarm, then he relaxed as he realized that she was teasing him again.

"Y'knew what I meant" he smiled, nudging her hip. "Don't know why you'd want a picture with me in it."

"It's good to capture moments. I'd love to photograph you, but I know you'd say no."

Daryl looked at her like she'd suggested he strip off and do a little dance. "Hell no. Always hated being photographed."

"I figured. What about Merle?"

"Does Merle like being photographed?" He was confused. Why did she want to know Merle's feelings on having his photograph taken?

"I'd like to shoot him. Not,  _shoot him_  shoot him. Photograph him, I mean. I've been thinking about asking him for a while now." Aisling stared off into the distance, half watching Shaun prepare to light the fireworks and thinking about the photographs of Merle that she'd like to take.

Daryl pulled back from her slightly and looked at her askance "What the hell you wanna take photos of Merle's ugly ass face for?"

"He has an interesting face" she shrugged. "Will you ask him?"

"Even though he's been a jackass to you? You still wanna take his picture?"

Aisling shrugged. "I don't have to be friends with someone to take their photo. If anything, it might be interesting if I'm still pissed off at him."

He wasn't sure how he felt about Aisling wanting to photograph his brother, but Daryl agreed to ask Merle if he would pose for her. She thanked him, and as the fireworks started to go off she slipped her arm around his waist and they watched them together, pulling each other close.

 

 

By 1AM everyone had said their goodbyes and Aisling was sitting with Daryl on a bench by the firepit, only Chuck, Corinne and Shaun left. He'd taken his arm away when they'd moved there, but Aisling was happy that he sat close to her, his fingers occasionally touching hers as everyone talked.

He finished his glass of whiskey and stood up, stretching his arms above his head, offering Aisling a delicious view of the tanned skin of his lower back that was revealed as his t-shirt rode up.

_Please let him kiss me tonight. Please let him kiss me. Please._

"Gotta get Aisling home" he said, turning to her and holding up his car keys.

"Uh-uh, mister" Corinne interrupted, firmly "You've had too much to drink. You can stay here tonight, I'll drive Aisling home."

Daryl's face fell, but he quickly recovered with a shrug and muttered "Whatever". He sat back down and looked sullenly at the fire. Aisling's hand crept over and found his, squeezing gently "Thank you for today" she whispered close to his ear, then stood up and said goodbye to everyone before she followed Corinne through the house and out to her car.

Daryl was pissed. He watched her leave, thinking about how much he'd wanted to kiss her. He'd talked himself up and had decided that tonight was the night, and he was going to do it when he dropped her home. Taste those lips of hers, feel how soft they were. Of course, he'd fucked everything up by drinking too much and now she was with Corinne, and he was angry with himself.

"Going to bed" he grunted and went into the house, where he lay on the sofa and closed his eyes, wishing he was better at all  _this_.

*.*

 

"You had a good time?" Corinne asked, looking at Aisling as she stared dreamily out the passenger side window.

"I had a great time, Corinne. Thank you so much for having me." She really did have a great day, meeting everyone, playing with Paige… having Daryl's arm around her.

"Okay, so… let's cut to the chase here, Aisling. You and Daryl? What's going on?" Corinne couldn't contain herself a second longer, and Aisling laughed at her enthusiasm for the pair's romantic destiny. "I'm sorry, I know I'm being blunt, but this is Daryl and… well, this is uncharted territory we're talking about."

Aisling sighed, leaning her head against the window and looking across at Corinne. "Honestly? I haven't got a clue what's going on. Normally… in my life, we'd be past this and things would be happening… but with Daryl…" she trailed off.

"Do you like him?" Corinne asked, seriously.

"Yeah, I do. More than I should, probably. I mean, we haven't even kissed. I thought maybe tonight… but..."

"But I'm driving you home?" Corinne winced "Sorry. He really had far too much to be able to drive though."

"I know… I know… And thank you for that, I am grateful."

"But… you wish it was Daryl and not me?"

Aisling nodded, and giggled. "That obvious, huh?"

Corinne glanced over to her and smiled, then leaned across and patted her knee lightly "Shaun and I were the same. Took us forever to get together, but it happened."

"Really?" Aisling was surprised. "You two seem like the 'love at first sight' kind?"

"Oh, we were" Corinne laughed, "just took us about six months to finally admit it, honey. So don't go writin' Daryl off, ok? Give him time."

"I'm going home in September. What if he never does anything?"

Corinne swallowed hard, then shot Aisling a firm look "What I'm about to say goes no further, ok?"

Aisling nodded, wondering what on earth this woman was about to tell her. Part of her wanted to tell her to shut up and not say anything, the other part was all ears.

"You know about Daryl's daddy?"

"I know he was a bit of a bastard, yeah."

"He was more than a bit, Aisling. He was a full blown, lifetime membership, portrait in the 'Hall of Bastards' bastard. Used to whip the boys silly, especially after their Mom died. And Merle… well, I'm sure you know already that he's not someone you'd want to leave responsible for the welfare of a child..."

Aisling nodded slowly, something of the horror of Daryl's childhood dawning on her.

"Everyone that was ever meant to love him, hurt him," Corinne continued, "His Momma died, his Daddy beat him, Merle left him I don't know how many times, when he should'a been protecting him. Is it any wonder he has a hard time allowing people in? Giving people the power to hurt him again?"

It all made sense.

"So, Aisling..." Corinne eyed her sideways and took a deep breath "Do you think you've got it in you to give him a chance, let him muddle his way through this thing you've got goin'? Cause if you don't, you should back off right now. He's been through enough."

Aisling took a deep breath and looked at Corinne "Is that me being warned off?"

"No, honey, it's not. It's me askin' you to spare him the hurt if your heart ain't in this as much as I think his is."

Neither of them said anything for a while, until the car pulled in at Aisling's driveway and Corinne turned to face her. "Look, I like you. You're good for him. Just don't hurt him, that's all I'm askin'."

Aisling nodded. What Corinne made sense, and she was glad that Daryl had someone looking out for his interests as voraciously as his friend's wife was, but she felt as though she'd been reprimanded for something that she hadn't done, and her heckles were slightly raised.

"I'm not sure what you know about me, or who you think I am, but I am not in the habit of going around treating men like crap, just for shits and giggles."

It took a lot of courage for her to say it to the woman who could potentially have been her friend, but she wanted to stand up for herself. Years of blindly accepting criticism had left her unwilling to let it stand when it was leveled at her unwarranted.

Corinne's eyes grew wide and she pushed her long auburn hair out of her face in frustration "No, no honey, I didn't mean that. Don't think I meant that," she pleaded, gently. "We both care about him, right?" Aisling nodded in reply "So all I'm sayin' is, treat him right. I don't know anything about you, but from what I've seen you're a real nice girl that I'd like to be friends with, and I reckon you'd be perfect for Daryl. I want you two to be together."

Aisling breathed a sigh of relief. "Are you offering yourself up as relationship counselor then, when I get all angsty and fraught?"

Corinne grinned "Course I am, honey. I'm here for the long haul, whenever you want. Now, go in and get some sleep… you've had a rough week by the sounds of it."

 

*.*

 

Aisling poured herself a glass of wine and sat staring at the wall in front of her.

She'd had relationships that had taken a while to get off the ground, but they'd never been so tied up with so many emotions. Corinne's pep talk had reminded her of a Yeats poem, so she dug a book from the pile she'd brought with her and read.

_"I have spread my dreams under your feet;_

_Tread softly because you tread on my dreams"_

She laid her head back on the sofa, took another sip of wine and exhaled slowly.

_Why is this all so fucking complicated?_


	11. Chapter 11

Merle had, unsurprisingly, loved the idea of some hot chick taking pictures of him. His already inflated ego swelled before Daryl's eyes, as he admired his reflection in the door of the microwave, turning his face slightly to the left, then the right.

"I always thought I had the makins' of a model, baby brother" he mused, lifting his chin slightly and pouting at his reflection.

Daryl snorted, "S'just Aisling, Merle. Ya ain't never gonna be a goddamn model."

Merle smiled at his reflection "Some big hot shot might see one of her pictures and think "THAT'S the guy I need to sell our cologne."

"Pepto Bismol, maybe" Daryl smirked, earning himself a kick in the shins from his brother. "You sure you're up for it, her takin' pictures of you?"

"Sure am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You told me she was just fuckin' with us. Didn't think you liked her much… and you told her Cassie was my damn girlfriend. What the hell was that about?"

Merle laughed loudly, "You oughta' know by now not to pay no heed to any of the shit that comes outta my mouth when I'm flyin' high!" He swatted Daryl's head lightly as he passed him on his way to the bathroom. "Kinda hard to ignore you sometimes, Merle" Daryl muttered.

"Besides," Merle yelled from the bathroom, the sound of his belt buckle jingling, "I like the lil' lady!"

Daryl put his face close to the door and shouted "You called her a 'stuck up Irish bitch'!"

He heard Merle laugh again "Told ya, I was out of it! Now, quit hanging round the door like a damn dog at a dumpster, and let a man shit in peace!"

 

*.*

 

On Monday Aisling ate lunch with Andy, talking over a scene they would be doing later. Her phone beeped, alerting her to a new message. She picked it up from the table and giggled at Daryl's text:

" _Merle ok with u taking pictures of him. Thinks hes gonna be a model._ "

Andy glanced up from pushing his chicken around the plate noticing the slight flush in Aisling's cheeks.

She typed a reply and sat the phone back down, her eyes glancing to it every few seconds.

"That the redneck?" he asked. The phone beeped again, and Aisling grabbed it and tapped quickly at it, absent mindedly nodding at Andy. She smiled broadly as she read the screen, and tapped out another reply before she put it back down again.

 

"Can I stick my fork up your nose?"

Aisling smiled, distracted by the phone beeping again, and gave Andy another nod as she began to read the message.

"Sorry, what…?" she looked up from the phone and stared at him.

"We were talking, Ash! Can't you concentrate on anything other than that fucking hick for two minutes? Jesus!"

Aisling's eyes narrowed "Oh, hark at Miss Manners here."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" he shouted, slamming his fork down onto the table, sending the untouched chicken spinning off to the ground below the table.

"You're the one who can't be bothered learning his lines! You're the one having trouble turning up sober! You're the one being unprofessional!" She tried to keep her voice down but couldn't help the volume increase with her anger, and she couldn't help the words bubbling up and out of her mouth. "How dare you criticize me for looking at my phone when you are making working on this show a fucking nightmare lately!"

Andy stood up. His eyes flashing with rage he leaned across and put his face close to Aisling's. His mouth opened to say something, but he thought the better of it and glared at her for a moment before he pushed away from the table roughly and walked away, sending his glass and plate to join the chicken on the ground.

Aisling was aware of the silence around them, as everyone studied their laps, plates, feet… anything other than look over and acknowledge the situation. Arguments weren't unheard of on sets, but they were rare on this one. With the exception of the American crew and the new actors, they had worked together for years, and often felt more like family than colleagues. Of course they would bicker, and people would get fed up with each other from time to time, but shouting and screaming rarely happened.

 

She pushed her plate away and stood up. As she walked quickly over towards her trailer she felt a hand reach out and grab hers. It was Sarah, the new actor who had joined the cast on their arrival in Georgia. "Do you want to talk?" the younger girl whispered, leaning close and placing a hand soothingly on the small of her back.

Aisling shook her head "No, I'm fine… I think I just needed to get that out of my system. But thanks."

"You said what most of us are thinking" Sarah pulled her into a quick hug, before releasing her and pushing her gently in the direction of the trailer, where Aisling sat on the small couch and re-read her texts from Daryl to cheer herslef up.

 

*.*

 

When Daryl and Merle rode up to the plantation late on Wednesday afternoon, after the guard at the gate checked their names off his clipboard, their attention was immediately drawn by the large number of confederate soldiers clustered around a tent-like shelter up past the farmhouse.

Smoke billowed from what looked like a mobile forge, and the noise of hammering grew as Daryl approached. Close to the old stone wall by the tent was a campfire, with a large black pot that looked like a cauldron suspended above it. Aisling stood by it, her face smeared with soot, fanning her face with her hands as a woman adjusted her hair. Another younger girl in costume stood beside her, and they laughed at something Aisling said.

 

An English man's voice called out "Quiet!", and when the chattering hadn't subsided a few moments later "QUIET PLEASE!"

Daryl hung back and Merle caught up with him, and they both watched as the television machine sprang into action.

 

"Picture is up."

A chubby dark haired man shouted "Camera ready?"

Another voice called out "Ready."

"Sound ready?"

Yet another voice, "Ready."

"Boom in. Slate in."

People moved slightly with equipment. Daryl hadn't the faintest idea what was going on, or what any of the things people were shouting meant, but he found the groups coordination fascinating. It all looked so complicated, but the simplicity of their interactions had obviously been fine-tuned over years to be able to do so much with a minimum of words.

"Roll sound!"

"Sound speeding."

"Roll camera!"

"Camera speeding."

"Slate! Marks!"

A young woman with one of the clapper boards Daryl had seen in movies stepped in front of Aisling and called out "Scene 4, Take 1" then stepped back out of shot.

"Ok, background!"

The soldiers began to move, some talking together silently while others lined up in front of Aisling and the other actress with tin cups in their hands.

"And action!"

 

Daryl watched, entranced, as Aisling's face hardened and she quickly ladled soup from the cauldron into the soldier's tin cups, telling the girl beside her that they would be finished before someone came back and he would never need to know. As she neared the end of her line she misjudged the position of the cup and poured soup all over the soldier's hand.

"Cut! Reset!"

Aisling clasped her hands to he mouth and apologised to the soldier, who just grinned as people appeared with wet wipes and cleaned him up again. Dirt was thrown over the soup on the floor, a new cup was produced and they went again.

 

"… it'll be nighttime before he's back, Lizzie"… the soup went all over the floor, missing the soldier's hand this time.

Aisling put her hands over her face and groaned, before shouting "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry"!

Daryl watched her give herself a small pep talk as more dirt was scattered and another clean cup appeared, muttering the line to herself and miming the action of pouring the soup as she faced Sarah, glancing down to check that she had it right.

 

"Scene 4, Take 3. Mark!"

This time she did it perfectly, and when a tall man who looked to be in charge called "That's a wrap for today, boys and girls, thank you!" a round of applause broke out among the soldiers, cast and crew.

 

After talking briefly with the tall man, who Daryl took to be the director or whoever was in charge of things like this, and the chubby guy who had done most of the yelling, Aisling reached round behind the wall that she was standing against and pulled out her camera. She moved around the soldiers before settling in front of a group of six who looked to be friends. Leaning in towards them she took several pictures of her own, before mingling among them all with the other actress that Daryl had overheard being called Sarah, posing with them as they took selfies with the two girls.

 

It was ten minutes or so after shooting had finished when she looked over and saw Daryl watching her, leaning against a tree a bit further back from all the action while Merle looked with interest at the guns that the soldiers were holding. He hadn't minded waiting. It gave him the chance to watch Aisling work her charm, making time to talk with everyone, leaving a trail of smiling Confederate Soldiers in her wake.

She made her way through the soldiers to where Daryl was standing, and reached out her hand to lightly tap one of his, folded up against his bicep. "Just have to get a shower and I'm all yours" she said, looking up at him and smiling brightly. "Fifteen minutes, yeah?"

Daryl nodded and watched her as she walked over towards her trailer, pulling pins from her long hair and shaking it out as she went. His attention was quickly grabbed by Merle poking him in the chest with a gun. He had put one of the soldiers gray woolen forage caps on his head and was brandishing a rifle across his chest "Take a picture, Daryl!" he urged, handing his phone out to his brother. Daryl did as he was asked and took several photos of Merle with the soldiers, as he pretended to be ambushed or fight alongside them.

_My brother is such an asshole._

 

*.*

 

"Where d'ya want me, Sugartits?" Merle drawled, pacing around the white walled room in the visitor center where Aisling had set up the lights she'd borrowed for the shoot.

Aisling waggled her hand in the direction of the wall nearest the lights while she adjusted a large reflecting board on a tripod "Anywhere there's fine for now, Merle".

 

Her hair was still damp from the shower she'd taken in her trailer, and she'd put on a pair of denim shorts and a white vest through which Daryl could just about make out the outline of the bra underneath.

He leaned against the wall to their right, watching her pick up her camera and stand in front of Merle, biting her lower lip as she thought about the best way to approach him.

 

Merle stood stiffly, for once slightly unsure of himself. "What d'ya want me to do?"

"Just relax. Shake yourself out" she showed him what she meant, shaking her arms out at her sides, and she snapped a couple of pictures as Merle copied her. "Now, what would you do to relax at home?"

He stared at her for a moment, before his hand slipped down to his belt buckle and he began to undo it. Aisling continued to snap away, as Merle unzipped his pants, pulled the front of them down slightly revealing a thatch of dark pubic hair, and wrapped his hand around his penis. He pulled it free from his jeans and let it hang there, grinning at Aisling, challenging her.

She didn't react at all, but Daryl did, pushing himself off the wall towards Merle.

"What the fuck?"

Aisling put her arm out to stop him. "It's ok. It's Merle, warts and all."

"Ain't got fuckin' warts!" Merle shouted indignantly, gripping his – admittedly impressive – penis like a weapon. "Ol' Merle's got nothin' to be ashamed of, ain't that right Sweetheart?"

 

Aisling carried on taking photographs, ignoring everything he said. She had been naked in front of a camera often enough for another person's nudity not to be a problem, and she also suspected that Merle just wanted to get a reaction from her. She wasn't going to give him one.

"Put your damn dick away, Merle!" Daryl shouted, scrubbing his hands up over his face and through his hair, mortified at his brother's behavior, wishing that he'd never asked him about this thing in the first place.

 

"Let me get this straight, Darylina… it's ok for the lil' pixie here to roll around with her titties out" Merle let go of his penis for a moment and cupped enormous imaginary breasts for added emphasis "but I gotta keep what the good Lord gave me all cooped up? That don't strike me as very fair!"

Daryl sighed. He knew what Merle was doing. He was looking for the chink in Aisling's armor that he could use to dig his way in, to get to her, to get a reaction from her. Merle pushed, and pushed, and pushed at people's buttons until they either exploded and hit him, or they stood firm and earned a begrudging respect from him. He was testing Aisling.

He turned back to look at her, the antagonistic grin on his face twisting into more of a smirk as Aisling moved closer, still taking pictures. She wanted to capture the flash of provocation in his eyes and walked right up to him, her camera in his face, invading his space.

Daryl watched as the cogs in his brother's mind turned, Merle's jaw twisting to the side as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, thinking. The grin slowly dropped and Merle wordlessly stuffed himself back into his pants and stared into Aisling's camera, his face as expressionless as Daryl had ever seen it while awake.

 

Aisling only took a few more pictures before announcing that she was done, except maybe for a few shots with Daryl in them?

"Hell no!" Daryl kept the wall firmly at his back and didn't move.

"But wouldn't it be nice for you to have a good photo of the two of you? For, like… I don't know… Christmas cards or something?"

Both brothers laughed at the idea of them sending anyone a Christmas card, never mind one with their picture on it.

"Come on Daryl, just one picture, that's all..." she looked up at him and he knew she was manipulating him intentionally with those big green eyes of hers, but he was done arguing the point.

 _Quicker to jus' let her take her damn photo_.

"Fine!" he huffed, and stomped over to stand awkwardly beside Merle. "I ain't getting' my dick out though."

 

She looked at the brothers through her camera and frowned. Daryl was scowling with his arms folded tightly across his chest, and Merle was trying some kind of seductive pout thing that really wasn't working.

Aisling racked her brains for the most disgusting joke she knew.  _Ok, here goes nothing..._

"So a guy gets in an elevator with a woman and asks ' _Can I smell your cunt_ '?"

Daryl's eyes snapped open wide.  _What the hell?_

Aisling carried on, looking at her camera settings as she spoke "And the woman says " _What?! No!"_ She's outraged, y'know? So they're almost at their floor and he says " _Seriously, can I smell your cunt_ "?"

Daryl didn't know what to think… she didn't usually speak like this. He didn't mind her swearing at all, in fact if he was honest it was damn hot to hear that word leave that pretty mouth, but he was surprised. Merle was frowning at her, not sure where this was going, his forehead lined with confusion.

"The woman is so upset! She's like " _Oh my god, no! You horrible man_!" So the man says " _Aah, ok, so it must be your feet_ "" They looked at each other in shock and disbelief for a second before laughter exploded from the brothers, Merle releasing a loud howl while Daryl shook his head and smacked his hands together, his broad shoulders shaking, his face transformed by a wide smile. Aisling captured a few shots of their open moment and lowered her camera, satisfied.

 

As she packed up her camera and lenses, Merle wandered over, still chucking to himself. "That's quite the potty mouth you've got on you, Missy!"

"It worked, didn't it" she smiled back at him. "I got your guard down, and got some nice shots too."

Daryl was still standing over by the lights, embarrassed at being unable to stop giggling. He rubbed his hand roughly over his face, but he couldn't stop smiling. He shook his head in admiration and disbelief, that she'd known the perfect way to get them to open up, and that she'd told him the filthiest joke he'd ever heard. Growing up with Merle and his friends he'd heard a lot, but perhaps it was the combination of those words coming from Aisling's mouth made her joke all the more jaw dropping to him.

"I gotta get goin'" Merle said, helping himself to a couple of the packs of cookies someone had left on the large table used for script read-throughs and stuffed them into the pocket of his jeans. "You wanna ride, brother?"

Daryl shook his head, "Gonna help Aisling pack up."

Merle held his hand out to Aisling and clasped her small hand between his two large rough palms. "I gotta go see a man about a dog, Aisling… and I gotta tell him that joke!"

He walked out the door, still chucking, muttering "Must be your feet!" to himself as he left.

 

Daryl helped Aisling move the lights to where she'd been told to leave them, and carried the folded down reflecting board out to her replacement rental car – another Cherokee, red this time.

"Sorry 'bout Merle" he muttered, closing the trunk. "Y'know, with the..." he nodded down to his crotch and bit at his thumbnail, nervously.

"Pfft," Aisling swatted at his chest, lightly "It's nothing I haven't seen before. If it takes Merle getting his twig and berries out to loosen himself up, I don't mind. Anyway, it's probably one of the most honest photos of someone I've ever taken."

"What you plannin' to do with all your pictures?" Daryl asked. Did she put them in an album? Or on the internet? He had no idea what she wanted to do with them all.

"I'd love to put on an exhibition, at some point" she said, blushing. "I know I've got no great talent, but it's something I've always dreamed about doing."

"Merle's dick's gonna be in some fancy art gallery?"

"That's the plan!" She laughed, then shook her head slightly "It will probably never amount to anything, but I'd love to do a show. If I do, Merle's dick could end up pride of place."

"Merle'd love that."

Neither of them wanted to part just yet, but Daryl was preparing himself for a long walk home through the woods, no idea how to prolong their time together. He kicked at the dirt nervously, squinting at her with no clue what to say.

Aisling broke the silence "Would you like to go for something to eat?" Daryl nodded, smiling shyly "Pretty hungry, yeah."


	12. Chapter 12

"I am so hungry I could eat a picture of The Last Supper and have the frame for dessert" Aisling groaned as they sat in a booth at the diner waiting for their order.

 

She had missed lunch to set up the lights for Merle's photoshoot earlier, and now her stomach felt like it was flapping about unhappily against her spine, like a leftover Christmas balloon in February. She was so hungry that had she been alone she would have hoovered up her fries as they arrived at the table, but as it was she took her time, eating them slowly.

As she popped the last one into her mouth she was aware of Daryl's eyes on her, his eyebrow raised as he slowly chewed on a mouthful of his burger.

"Why d'ya do that?" he asked, nodding at the empty basket her fries had been served in "You always seem to be holdin' back on eatin' when you're around me, but I saw you here that day, before we sat with you, an' you were gettin' stuck right into whatever it was you were eatin.'"

"Ok… and here was me thinking I'd managed to hide the fact that I'm a pig pretty well so far" Aisling muttered, pushing the empty basket away.

Daryl snorted, taking another bite of his burger "Y'aint a pig" he said, chewing.

 

"I eat a lot. I mean,  _a lot_. My Mum was always on at me to eat like a lady, but I can't help it sometimes. Especially when I'm with people I'm comfortable with, and I'm hungry. I just want the food to be in me..."

Daryl eyed her, still chewing. "Sayin' you ain't comfortable with me?"

"No…" she smiled across at him "I just didn't want you to think I was disgusting right away."

"Likin' your food ain't a bad thing," He reached out and lightly prodded her hand with his fingers "Didn't mean nothin' by it."

"So how d'ya keep your body lookin' so good when you eat so damn much?" He blushed realising what he's said, and squinted over at her, wincing slightly at his words.

"You think I've got a good body?" she replied, with a smirk.

"Ain't blind" he mumbled, looking down at his plate as a pink flush crept up his cheeks.

"Ain't so bad yourself, Dixon" she laughed, doing a pretty good attempt at his accent.

The blush on Daryl's cheeks deepened. "I ain't nothin'" he muttered, pushing his empty plate away and licked his fingers clean, a move which never failed to get Aisling's attention, get her imagination working.

She frowned, shooting him a 'seriously?' look, and gestured to his shoulders and arms. "Have you not seen you?"

Daryl wasn't used to this many compliments. He felt he'd blushed so much this evening that his face was in danger of catching fire.

"From carryin' deer carcasses around, s'all."

"I can see your Mens Fitness cover, Daryl. ' _Haulin' Deer – The All Over Dixon Workout_ '"

He laughed, and said "Stop", gently prodding her hand with his finger again, thinking that, really, he didn't want her to ever stop. Sure, he'd had the likes of Cassie sniffing round him, telling him he was hot, but Daryl had never cared about what they thought. Having someone he liked tell him that they liked him was very new.

 

His Mom had always been too wasted or too beaten up to give him much affection, and Merle certainly wasn't in the habit of filling his brother with praise. He didn't recall his Daddy ever saying anything positive to him.

Consequently, when other people did it felt alien to him, like putting a shoe on the wrong foot. It felt uncomfortable. But when Aisling did it, it felt good. He felt as though there was a fire in his belly that was slowly starting to catch the whole of his insides.

They finished their cokes and Daryl paid for their food. As they walked back to her car he asked "What do you do with the pictures you took today? You gotta' wait an' get 'em printed 'fore you can see 'em?"

"No, I'll import them from the camera when I get in. I can see them straight away."

Feeling brave, he looked at her from behind the dark hair which had fallen into his eyes, and asked "Could I see 'em?" as he chewed on the little bit of skin around his thumbnail.

Aisling nodded and bit her lip, unable to speak just in case the little squeal of delight she felt bubbling near her throat fell out.

 

*.*

 

"Do you want a coke or anything?" Aisling asked Daryl as she set up her laptop and connected it to her camera on the desk.

"Naw, I'm good" he quietly replied, watching her as she sat on the wooden chair in front of the desk, and tapped lightly at the keyboard of the thin silver laptop a few times.

She looked up and saw him standing there, and scooted over in the chair slightly. She patted her hand on the empty space she'd created and said "Sit."

Daryl balanced half his ass on the chair, his side pressed against Aisling's, trying not to either push her off completely or fall off himself. It wasn't comfortable at all, but he was close to her, and so he was happy to stay there.

 

She pressed a few buttons and Merle's face filled the screen in black and white in front of him, his features a mix of shadow and light, his eyes boring into him from inside the laptop.

_How the hell did she make my brother's ugly face look like fuckin' art?_

"That's… that's crazy..." Daryl whispered "He looks like Merle, but he don't. Don't know how to describe it..."

"You like it?" Aisling asked nervously. "Hell yeah! Show me the rest."

 

She clicked through the pictures, stopping at one of the first she'd taken of Merle when he'd exposed himself. Seeing his brother with his flaccid penis hanging from his pants in front of Aisling had made him feel ashamed and uncomfortable, but seeing the photographs of the same event he'd witnessed only hours before felt completely different. It wasn't Merle with his dick out, it was a middle-aged man with greying hair confronting the world.

"I love this..." she said quietly, "Look at the challenge in his eyes. He's saying 'this is me, what the fuck are you going to do about it?'" He glanced at her, finding himself oddly calm watching the woman he had grown to want so much look at a picture of his brother's junk.

 

The next picture she stopped at was one she'd taken of Merle's face, when he'd stopped grinning and just looked into the camera. He looked old. That was the first thing Daryl noticed. His brother was twelve years older than him, but looked a lot older than his forty eight years. With his lined forehead, and his upper eyelids drooping slightly above the same blue eyes they shared, he looked ten years older than he was.

Merle looked tired, that was the second thing Daryl observed. He wondered if it was the drugs, the military, or the stints in juvie and prison that had worn him down, or if it was simply the exhaustion of 'being Merle'?

"You ok?" Aisling asked softly from beside him. He didn't look away from the picture. "Yeah… just, lookin'. He looks so damn old."

"I think he looks 'lived in'." she replied simply, and Daryl nodded. Merle's body had definitely been lived in.

 

The last photograph she stopped at was the last one she had taken, showing the two brothers together after she had told her horrible joke. She smiled. It was exactly as she had hoped.

Merle faced Daryl, his face stretched out in a grin, all teeth and narrow eyes. His chin was down, not tilted up in confrontation as it was earlier.

Daryl mirrored the angle of his brothers body, turned slightly towards him. His smile was broad and his hands were pressed together in almost a praying position, but his face was angled down slightly so that Merle was looking at him, but he wasn't looking at Merle.

"That's really us, huh..." he breathed, staring at the screen. The only photos of him and Merle together that he could remember seeing had been taken when they were young. One had sat in a cracked frame on his Mom's bedside dresser before she died. In it, a teenage Merle, his head a shock of dark curls, had glowered at two year old Daryl who stood beside him smiling at the camera in a dirty t-shirt, his fat little belly and chubby legs bulging out from his diaper. That photograph had been destroyed in the fire that took his Mom, and for the first time in his life Daryl wanted to see it again.

"Would you like to see some others?" she turned to him, her face close to his, and he nodded as he swallowed thickly, unable to speak for a second. The proximity of her face was unnerving him, as were the feelings about the old remembered photograph of him and Merle.

 

Aisling opened an album of photos where she had been storing her favorite images that she hoped might someday be ones she could do something with. A grid of six photographs opened on the screen and Daryl leaned forward slightly to see them better.

"You took these?" he asked, as she opened the first one in full screen, so that she could easily scroll through them.

"This one was in a club in New York a few years ago" she explained, pointing towards the image of a boy and girl in, he guessed, their late teens or early twenties, kissing against a grimy sink in a graffiti covered bathroom. The girl's top was pulled down, her bare breasts covered by the boys hands and her tongue was flicked out towards his lips.

"Ya weren't embarrassed, takin' this?" he asked, wondering if she'd asked them to pose like this.

"No, I'd asked to take their picture and it just happened. They weren't embarrassed so neither was I" she said simply.

 

Daryl recognised the next picture as the old bikers he'd watched her with from his truck. He liked how the men were all smiling, in contrast to the surly men he knew through Merle.

The last photograph was one of a finely featured young man, looking up at the camera, his long dark hair tousled on the pillow below his head. His torso and arms were almost covered with intricate tattoos of wings, hearts, birds and other symbols, as were his hands which lay across his belly. The word 'FUCK' was inked on the knuckles of one hand, 'LOVE' on the other.

"Who's that?" Daryl pointed a finger towards the photograph, knowing before she answered that this was a boyfriend. "An ex. Sébastien." She wasn't sure what else to say.

Daryl nodded slowly, biting at the inside of his cheek. He was jealous of the French prick, sure. He wanted to reach in through the screen and drag him out where he could kick his ass, because he wanted to be able to lay there and look up at Aisling like that. But he also felt a sense of urgency swell within him. It was like when he was hunting, waiting, watching, then suddenly there was that moment when he had to make his move or the goal would vanish.

 

He turned his head to look at her, and she looked back at him, her green eyes large and lips parted, looking so fucking soft. His heart raced, and he felt his chest rise and fall as his breathing quickened.

Aisling looked from his eyes to his lips, watching as he briefly licked his lips, before he leaned in and clumsily pressed his wet mouth against hers.

They had less than a second to enjoy the feeling of each other's warm lips joined together. Aisling barely had time to register how soft Daryl's lips felt, and how he tasted of smoke and fresh air.

The mobile phone that rang on the table in front of them was loud, shrill and unwelcome. It jolted them apart in surprise, and Aisling glared at it.

 

Daryl looked at her face, her brow's knitted together, her lips pursed in anger and stood up quickly.

She was angry. He'd freaked her out. He needed to get out of there.

"I'm sorry" he choked out, all semblance of normal speech forgotten in the events of the last few seconds.

"What…?" Aisling picked up her phone, ready to send the caller to voicemail and reconnect with the mouth she'd been itching to feel on hers for such an infuriatingly long time.

 

Daryl was out the door by the time she realized he was leaving. "Daryl! Wait!" she called after him, but he was already too far down the drive to hear her. She sat in stunned silence for a moment before she remembered the phone in her hand and threw it angrily at the wall.

 

Eventually Daryl's pace slowed as he made his way home through the woods, and he settled into a dejected trudge through the undergrowth. He felt stupid and embarrassed. Why did he have to be so brutish, grabbing her like that?

_Thought she liked me. Shows I don't know fuck all 'bout nothin'._

The memory of her face as their lips parted swam in his head. He hadn't meant to make her angry. In the second that his mouth was pressed to hers he had felt so happy, because in that second Daryl had thought that he would be with her now, and he would be unbroken.


	13. Chapter 13

Neither Aisling nor Daryl slept that night as their minds were both far too busy over analyzing their kiss, and each others reactions.

In the week that followed they each dealt with their perceived rejection in their own way.

Daryl, bruised and angry, coped with it much as he had with every other rejection he'd had in life. He growled at the world, keeping it at bay, separating himself from it and all the trouble it caused.

Aisling sought solace in her friends, trying to find some explanation for what had happened, and when none that seemed logical to her came she became irritable, snapping at people. Heather thought that maybe Daryl had been overwhelmed by the kiss, but Aisling pointed out that Daryl was neither a teenage girl nor an eighteenth century romantic heroine. Sarah wondered if Daryl had thought she didn't like the kiss, but Aisling argued that he must know that she liked him. She thought she'd made it obvious enough. She had been trying to get her phone to go to voicemail so that they could carry on, so it didn't make any sense to her that he could think she didn't like it?

She thought about texting him, but as every day went by without so much as a peep from him, she didn't want to beg for his attention. She was hurt and confused, and was doubting whether investing so much time and emotional energy in Daryl was healthy. This lust, or whatever it was, would pass. She'd built it all up in her head to be of far more importance than it really was, and she needed to move on.

 

*.*

 

On Friday night Daryl sat at a table in the bar with Shaun and Chuck. It had been an unbearably hot day and he welcomed the cold beer as it slipped easily down his throat.

"Hey, ain't that Aisling?" Chuck nudged him with his elbow, raising up out of his seat slightly to twist around for a better look as she sat down at a table with Sarah and two men. Daryl glanced over and recognized the blonde man sitting beside Aisling as the soldier she had poured soup over during the week. His stomach twisted inside him, making him feel like he might throw up.

"Why aren't you going over?" Shaun asked, confused.

"Better things to do" Daryl grunted.

Shaun and Chuck exchanged a curious look over Daryl's head. Shaun had noticed that he'd been even quieter than usual at work, but had put it down to the heat. Now he wondered what had happened between Daryl and Aisling that had them ignoring each other, after having their arms around each other a week ago.

When Sarah told Aisling that a couple of the cuter re-enactors had asked them to accompany them to the bar that night after filming, Aisling told her that she didn't want to go, she wanted to go home. But Sarah had persevered and Aisling had decided that, fuck it, it  _might_  be fun. She didn't have high hopes for the evening, but it had to be more uplifting than sitting at home alone reading over her lines, listening to Joy Division and staring into space, which is what she'd done for the past two nights.

 

Half an hour passed and the two men were getting loud and obnoxious, and Aisling was annoyed. Marc, the soldier she had poured soup over, was getting overly 'handsy'. He squeezed her thigh under the table twice, and she had swiftly but politely removed it both times, and was trying to make eye contact with Sarah to let her know that she wanted to leave.

She let out a sigh of relief as he stood up and unsteadily made his way towards the bathroom, not looking up to see that he'd accidentally bumped Daryl, who was standing at the bar waiting for beers, on his way. She didn't even know that Daryl was in the bar, as he'd been sitting down since they arrived and the place was pretty busy.

 

Daryl followed Marc silently and listened as his phone rang and he began a loud conversation with a friend on the other end.

"Aw man, she's so fuckin' hot!" he slurred, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he took a piss, then zipped himself back up and prepared to leave. "Yeah, actresses and whores, same thing, yeah?" Daryl stepped into the bathroom. "So I'm gonna get some Irish pussy tonig-"

Marc's approach to the door was cut short by Daryl's chest, bumping him back repeatedly until he met the bathroom wall. The redneck's nose was inches from his, his narrow blue eyes locked on him in a dark, murderous glare.

"What the fuck, man?" Marc asked, trying to keep upright as Daryl advanced on him silently.

 

"Daryl!" Shaun's voice brought him back to reality and his hands pulled him back, reluctantly forcing him to let the preppy asshole go.

"What are you doing?" Shaun asked, watching Marc pick his phone up off the floor and leave the bathroom shaking his head, firing a look of disgust back at the man who tried to pick a fight with him.

Daryl leaned back against the wall and rubbed his hands across his face, pushing them back until they locked behind his neck. "Shoulda' let me pound his sorry ass into the floor" he growled.

"What just happened?" Shaun was confused. Sure, Daryl was hot headed, but he didn't usually go pushing people around without believing he had a good reason to.

"Was sayin' shit about Aisling."

Shaun thought for a moment, then nodded his head at Daryl "Ok… that seems fair. Something happened between you two? You and Aisling?"

"Kissed her" he said simply, looking down at his boots "She got angry."

"'Cause ya kissed her?" Shaun shook his head, "No, that just don't make sense, Daryl. She told Corinne she liked ya, wanted ya to kiss her… why would she get angry?"

This was news to Daryl. She told Corinne she wanted him to kiss her? He was more confused than ever now and sighed, leaning his head back on the white tile wall.

Shaun reached out and clasped his friend's broad shoulder firmly. "C'mon back out, we can keep an eye on her from out there, make sure she's ok, but there ain't much we can do from in here."

 

 

Marc had sat back into his seat beside Aisling heavily, and started telling his friend Jason about the methed-out redneck who had tried jumping him in the bathroom. Aisling finally caught Sarah's attention, and mouthed 'Home?' at Sarah, who looked to be having just as underwhelming a time as she was. Sarah nodded in reply, so Aisling began to stand up. Marc's fingers curled around her upper arm tightly and pulled her back down into her seat, laughing. "Where do you think you're going? Night's still young!"

"We're going, now," Aisling said firmly and moved to stand up again, but Marc put his arm around her shoulder and held her firmly in place.

"Stop it!" Sarah said, reaching across the table to try and pull Aisling towards her "We're leaving!"

"No you ain't!" Marc said loudly, laughing, and leaned forward, crushing his slimy lips against the side of Aisling's. His breath was sour and she twisted her head to get away from him.

"Get off me!" she shouted, and then suddenly he was moving up and back, away from her with a surprised expression on his face.

 

"The lady told you to get off her" Daryl's low voice growled from somewhere behind Marc as he moved.

_Daryl's here?_

Daryl pushed Marc onto the floor, but but rather than do the sensible thing and leave, he scrambled up again quickly and sat back down, throwing his arm back around Aisling who was now red faced and visibly upset.

She pushed him back with both hands, and as she did Daryl's strong hands grabbed the man's shoulders and hauled him up again.

"Get your damn hands off of her!" Daryl bellowed into his face, and Aisling watched as his fist collided with Marc's nose in a spurt of blood and a crunch of bone, sending him reeling against the table behind them and back onto the floor.

"I don't think so, sunshine" Chuck said to Jason, catching his arm as he went to step forward to join in. The bartender standing with Shaun beside Chuck pointed the baseball bat he was carrying at the Marc, then Jason "You two. Out before I call the cops."

Marc staggered to his feet, his hand clasped over his bloody nose, and left with Jason on his heels behind him.

 

The silence in the bar was broken by the clatter of high heels. "Daryl, sugar, you ok?!" Cassie grabbed the hand Daryl had punched with and held it up to inspect it. His eyes hadn't left Aisling's since he'd knocked Marc to the floor, but now she couldn't bear to look any more and stood up.

"I'm going outside, Sarah. I'll see you out there."

Chuck stepped quickly to Sarah's side, dipping his head down to ask the pretty redhead if she was ok, and Shaun wandered over to the bar chatting with the bartender. The bar filled with noise again and Daryl stood there in the middle of the floor, looking at the door Aisling had just left through. "Let me clean those knuckles up for you, Daryl" Cassie purred into his ear, "C'mon into the bathroom and I'll-" He shook her off, his eyes never moving from the door, and followed Aisling outside.

 

*.*

 

Aisling tried to light a cigarette, but her hands were shaking too much to get the lighter to work. The bar door opened and closed, sweeping light across the parking lot, and she looked up to see Daryl walking towards her. He reached into his jeans pocket and took out his lighter, holding it under her cigarette. She inhaled deeply, then blew out a slow stream of smoke up into the night.

"You ok?" He asked, his eyes searching for hers in vain as she stared up at the stars, leaning back against the truck she'd found herself beside.

"Yep."

_What, she can't even look at me now?_

"What were you doin' with those two pricks?" he asked, feeling the familiar fizz of anger begin inside him.

 

Her eyes finally lowered from the sky and met his, but they weren't the big green eyes he loved to look at. They were cold, accusing, and narrowed at him.

"Didn't think you cared."

She flinched as Daryl turned away from her slightly, then spun back around and closed the distance between them, slamming his hand against the hood of the truck she was leaning against. "That's what you think, huh? You think I'm just some asshole who don't give a shit about nothin'?"

Aisling didn't answer him, looking up at the stars again instead and taking another drag of her cigarette. She didn't trust herself to speak to him right now.

"You don't know nothin'!" he yelled at her, wishing she'd look at him. "Think I'd have hit that jackass if I didn't care? Think I'd have fuckin' kissed you if I didn't care? Think I'd be so fucking mad at myself for pissing you off if I didn't care?!"

He stopped yelling, surprised at the words that had come pouring out of him, and silence fell on the dark parking lot again.

 

Her eyes slowly lowered until she was looking at him and she breathed out a tiny sigh. "I wasn't pissed off at you" she said, quietly.

"I saw your damn face! You were pissed as hell!"

Aisling closed her eyes for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. "I was pissed off at whoever was calling, not at you for kissing me."

She watched Daryl's brow crease into a frown for a moment as he thought about what she'd said, then his eyes widened slightly and she saw him swallow.

He chewed on his lip for a moment before he took a step towards her, holding his hand out to touch her, but she stepped away.

 

"Sorry" he quietly offered, dropping his hand back to his side, knowing how pathetic and useless it was as the word left his lips. He had got this so wrong, and wanted to make it right.

"I'm going home, Daryl."

"I'll take ya" he said quickly "just get in my truck. I'll take ya home."

"Why, so you can get angry at me again and freak out on me?" Aisling's control on her anger was slipping away from her, and her voice rose in volume. "This is exhausting, Daryl! I don't know whether I'm coming or going with you! I don't want to spend the next month or so wondering if you're going to yell at me, or ignore me, or kiss me, or whatever you decide you're going to do next!"

She took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of control and said "Let's forget it. I won't bother you any more."

She went to walk away but Daryl grabbed her arm. He didn't want her to go, but he didn't know what to say to fix this. "Aisling… no, wait".

She pulled away from him and glared at him, her green eyes flashing with anger. She needed to get this out, to let him know how he'd made her feel.

"You know what? When you kissed me, for that split second I thought "Yes! This is amazing!", but then I spent the next two days feeling miserable, wondering what the fuck I did wrong to make you flounce off and give me the silent treatment! The same thing happened after we went to Atlanta, remember? All because of something that could have been sorted out in a minute if you'd talked to me instead of assuming the worst."

"Didn't fuckin' flounce" was all that Daryl could think to say, and he felt stupid as soon as the words left his mouth.

 

Her anger was spent now and she just looked sad. "Thank you for looking out for me with that guy. I want to go now."

His lips were closed tight, and he bit at them as he tried and failed to think of something to say.

Sarah left the bar, followed by Chuck, and called out to her. He watched her give Chuck her number as Aisling walked over towards them, leaving him standing by the truck. They got into Sarah's car and drove past, out of the parking lot. Aisling sat in the passenger seat with her head rested against the side window, looking miserable.

Chuck watched him a moment, then asked "You ok, man?"

Daryl pushed himself away from the truck and walked over to his friend. "I'm gonna get shit-faced drunk" he snarled and went back into the bar.

 

*.*

 

Daryl jumped into self-preservation mode like a man leaping from a burning boat into the sea.

_Why the hell should I care? Stupid bitch thinks she's so fuckin' superior, thinks she's so damn perfect. Lucky escape, Dixon._

He refused to talk to Shaun and Chuck about what had happened in the parking lot, but they both guessed that Aisling had walked away from him. Whether she had walked away for good or not remained to be seen, but at this moment she was gone and Daryl was reverting to his tried and tested coping mechanism. Close yourself off, roll down those shutters, and ride it out.

 

*.*

 

"C'mon brother, let's get you home" Shaun grunted later as he steered a very drunk Daryl out of the bar. "I can walk by myself!" Daryl shouted, shrugging Shaun's arm away from his shoulders, reeling into the wall where he paused, breathing heavily, and fumbled about with a cigarette and his lighter. Chuck and Shaun stood watching, allowing him a moment before they tried to move him again.

 

"Thought I saw ya leave, Daryl sugar," Cassie's voice came from the shadows as she followed the men outside.

"Go away" Daryl slurred, dropping his cigarette and bending down unsteadily to pick it up. When he was upright again he was aware of hands pushing him back against the wall, of breath on his neck, and hair stiff with hairspray scratching against his cheek. "Y'know I want ya, Daryl. C'mon… forget about her, she ain't right for you like I am." He felt her tongue run along his jaw. "Ditch those guys, let's you and me go some place private an' have a little fun."

He pulled his head back a little to look at her. Her pouting lips looked vulgar and cheap, and her blue eyes, framed by eyelashes thick with mascara, were so different from the green eyes he wanted to be looking into. Aisling's eyes were large, expressive… the kind of eyes you could stare into and get lost in. Cassie's eyes were hard and for some reason reminded him of the kid who played the banjo in ' _Deliverance_ '.

 

She leaned close and kissed him with parted lips. Her lipstick felt greasy against his mouth. For a second Daryl considered kissing her back. A lesson to himself that Aisling meant nothing.

_See, I can kiss whoever the hell I want. Don't mean shit!_

His hands reached up to her shoulders, gripping them tightly, and pushed her off him.

"Don't ya get it? I don't like ya! I ain't ever gonna like ya!" he yelled into her startled face, spitting the words out. Chuck approached quickly, grabbing Daryl's elbow, pulling him towards Shaun's car.

"Y'aint her!" he yelled over his shoulder at Cassie, who was straightening her halter top, glaring at Daryl.

"You'll be sorry, Daryl Dixon!" she screamed at his back, her face contorted with rage as she watched Daryl being bundled into the back seat of Shaun's car. "Don't know why I wasted my time on a fuckin' asshole like you! You've lost your chance! You an' that ugly Irish bitch deserve each other!"

 

*.*

 

Daryl groaned as a loud ringing sound pulled him from his dream about Aisling, and he pressed his face into his pillow, growling in frustration. He was a soldier in the Civil War, running through a forest without a weapon, when Aisling, naked, her white skin glowing in the moonlight, stepped out from between the trees. She pressed her finger to her lips, and beckoned him to follow her. She had led him to a clearing where she lay down on the ground. A group of men had appeared, playing traditional Irish music, and Daryl dropped to his knees beside her, running his hands up her long smooth legs. He had just begun to slide his tongue across her feather tattoo when he had woken up.

"What?" he answered his phone angrily. His voice was thick with sleep and irritation.

"Good mornin' to you too, Daryl! Sore head?" Chuck's cheery voice asked.

"No. Whatcha' want?"

"Me an' you's gonna hang out with Shaun an' the family today, get some food an' chill. Ok if I swing by an' pick you up in an hour?"

Daryl thought for a moment, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He could do with the distraction, something to take his mind off the monumental fuck up he'd made of things with Aisling. It wouldn't hurt to get out of his shit hole of a house for a while either.

"Alright. See ya' later."

 

*.*

 

After hanging up the phone Daryl showered, taking care of his erection while he was in there. Wrapping his hand around himself, he thought about what he'd have liked to happen in his dream, had he not been interrupted. His hand moved slowly, stroking his throbbing cock as he imagined Aisling's small, soft hand in place of his own large, calloused one, slipping over his sensitive head, slick with water and beads of precum that were already leaking from him.

He groaned in pleasure, stroking and twisting, pumping his fist faster and harder until the Aisling in his head replaced her hand with her hot, wet mouth and he came with a loud grunt. Spurts of cum mingled with the soap suds on his hand and the shower floor.

Leaning his head against the shower wall, Daryl panted quietly, letting his body calm down again before he went to get dressed.

 _Gotta stop doing this. Ain't gonna make it any easier if I keep jerkin' off thinkin' 'bout her_.

Masturbating while thinking about Aisling was part of his regular night time routine now, all the more so since he had asked Shaun to set up internet access on his phone and he could watch  _that_  video whenever he wanted. The women in his fantasies had usually been faceless before he'd met her, but now it was just Aisling, flooding his thoughts and dreams.

 

*.*

 

"Stop at the store so I can get some beers to take along" Daryl told Chuck as they drove along, remembering his decision to never turn up at Shaun's home empty handed again.

"Won't need 'em" Chuck replied "We ain't goin' to Shaun's house."

Daryl frowned in confusion "Where we goin' then? We meetin' 'em somewhere?"

 

Chuck slowed the car and turned it into the entrance of the plantation, where bunting and balloons surrounded a sign announcing a 'Family Fun Day!' "We're meetin' 'em here." Chuck parked his car and nudged Daryl's elbow "C'mon, get out."

"Nuh-uh, no. Ain't gettin' out. Take me home." Daryl folded his arms across his chest and sat back in his seat, refusing to move.

"C'mon, man! It's a big place, lots of people here" Chuck reasoned, "Ain't even gotta see her if ya don't want to."

"Fine, I'll walk!" Daryl huffed and climbed out of the car, ready to stamp off in the direction of home when he saw Sarah standing talking with Aisling, the older woman he'd seen her with in the bar the night he'd ignored her, and Merle.

_What the fuck is Merle doin' here?_

Sarah spotted Daryl and Chuck, and said something to the others before she waved and made her way down towards them.

 

"Can't walk off, man. They've seen ya. Gonna look weird as shit if you go stompin' off now." Chuck grinned and lifted his hand to greet Sarah. They talked and smiled at each other as they walked up the slight hill towards the others, leaving Daryl to follow along slowly behind him.

As he got closer he was able to hear Aisling say that she was just going to go speak to someone, and walked off in the direction of a large group of people by the farmhouse.

_Great. This is gonna be awkward as hell._

 

 

Merle raised a beer in greeting, and smirked at Daryl. "Howdy, baby brother! Heard ya snoring like a wounded hog this mornin'. Finally dragged your ass outa that mud wallow of yours, eh?"

"What are you doin' here?" Daryl grunted.

"Ran into Aisling and the lovely Heather here," he gestured to the older woman who smiled and wiggled her fingers at Daryl and Chuck by way of a hello "in the diner earlier, told me about this thing goin' on. Lil' Miss Aisling invited her ol' pal Merle along."

 

"Uncle Dawill!" Daryl felt two small people slam into his legs, wrapping their arms around one each and squeezing.

Daryl smiled and reached his hands down to rumple Paige and Stevie's hair. "Where's your Mom and Dad?" he asked, looking round and quickly spotting Shaun and Corinne sitting on the grass a short distance away, smiling over at him.

 

Walking with a small child attached to each leg wasn't easy, but Daryl was able to carefully make his way across the grass to join them, leaving Chuck talking to Sarah. Merle stayed with Heather, making her laugh with one of his stories.

"This your idea?" Daryl nodded at Shaun, who shook his head. "My good wife here thought it might be a nice way to spend an afternoon."

Corinne smiled innocently at them both, and shrugged "I don't have to cook."

"Sure" Daryl smirked.

 

*.*

 

Aisling wasn't really listening to the woman beside her talk about how she thought that Wild Geese would be greatly improved if there was less sex in it. She nodded, absent mindedly, and watched Daryl lying on his back in the grass, holding Stevie in the air above him like an airplane. She could hear the little boys giggle from here, and she felt a tug at her stomach as she looked at Daryl's strong arms, his muscles flexing.

He glanced over and saw her, and he held her gaze for a moment before her lips curled up with a tiny smile. She said something to the old woman she was standing with and walked over to the path which led towards the mill pond they'd sat at that first day he'd been to the plantation.

 

Corinne watched the small interaction, and noticed Daryl begin to bite at his lips. Over the years she'd watched him do the same when he was thinking and knew something was going on in the quiet man's head.

He gently lowered Stevie to the ground and stood up. "I gotta go talk to someone, lil' dude, but I'll play with ya again in a bit, ok?" Stevie nodded, but Paige wanted to follow her favorite uncle as he walked away in the direction Corinne had seen Aisling go a few moments earlier. "I wanna go with Uncle Dawill!" she pouted, stamping her little foot on the ground.

"No honey, you'll see Uncle Daryl in a bit. He needs to have a grown-up talk. You stay here with me and Daddy."

 

*.*

 

Aisling sat on the grass by the pond, idly tugging at a dandelion leaf as she stared up at the rough stone of the old mill. She wondered how many other girls had sat by it's cool walls, thinking about boys.

 

"Hey."

Dary's low voice startled her. She twisted around to look at him and felt her heart flutter when her eyes met his. He chewed nervously on the skin by his thumb nail "Sorry. Didn't mean to make ya jump."

"It's ok. You've got great ninja skills." She gave him a little smile, and to her relief he gave her one of his little half smiles in return. "Want to sit down?" she asked, patting the ground beside her, just like she had that first time, a few weeks ago.

He nodded and sat beside her, stretching his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his hands. They were silent for a moment, sneaking glances at each other.

 

"Wanted to say sorry. I was an asshole," he broke the silence, his voice surprisingly soft and quiet "Jus' ain't used to… to all this." He gestured between them both, and looked into her eyes, trying to see what she was thinking somehow.

"Didn't mean to fuck things up."

Aisling didn't know what to say. She hadn't slept last night at all, thinking about what he'd said, and how she'd yelled things she didn't really mean at him. Dealing with his insecurity and the misunderstandings  _was_  exhausting, but she didn't really want to just 'leave it', like she had said.

 

"I'm sorry I shouted at you," was all she managed to say.

"Hell, I deserved it an' more" Daryl began to tug distractedly at tufts of grass "Everythin' ya said was right! You were all friendly an' sweet an' shit, an' I was either ignorin' ya or tryin' ta kiss ya, like some damn teenage girl."

"I liked the kissing part" her quiet voice surprised him, and he looked up from the grass to see her smile shyly at him. His throat felt tight and he swallowed, his adams apple bobbing up and down.

"Did you mean what you said, about caring about me?"

He nodded, his eyes never dropping from hers, and nervously bit at his lip.

_Ok, Aisling, time to take the bull by the horns here._

She reached out and gently ran her index finger over the hair on his chin, tracing along the couple of gray hairs there, before she hooked it underneath ever so slightly and slowly guided his face towards hers. Daryl swallowed hard again, and his tongue quickly ran across his lips as his eyes dropped from hers to her mouth.

Their lips met softly, barely touching as their mouths brushed against each others. She went to pull back, but Daryl's hands reached out and caught her face, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. Aisling was melting. Her mouth moved against his, catching his lower lip between hers and tugging gently, making Daryl shudder and causing a small groan to escape from him.

 

She pulled back slightly, resting her forehead against his and breathed "This ok?"

"S'more than fuckin' ok" Daryl growled, his mouth already moving back to hers, desperate to reconnect with those lips. He was hungry for her, like a starving man denied of food for far too long. His heart was pounding so hard it made his chest hurt, and one hand moved to the back of her neck, curling his fingers into her soft, silky hair, pulling her even closer to him.

Her hot, wet tongue slid alongside his, eliciting anther groan from deep in his throat, and he greedily thrust his own into her mouth, wanting to taste as much of her as he could.

His head was swimming. He never wanted to let her go. Daryl Dixon had found his place in the world, and it was right here on Aisling O'Brien's soft, beautiful lips.

 

"Uncle Dawill? Where are you?!"

The sound of the little girl's voice from around the corner made them snap apart, their breathing hard and fast. Daryl's eyes met Aisling's and he laughed, shaking his head. "That kid's got really fuckin' bad timing."

Aisling was only able to nod, all the words she'd ever known suddenly deserting her in the aftermath of that earth shattering kiss.

Daryl ran his hand across his face and groaned, before he looked up to see Paige come running along the path that curved towards them. She was closely followed by Corinne, who grimaced and mouthed "I'm so sorry!" at the two flushed, breathless people sitting on the grass in front of her.

 

*.*

 

They had a fun afternoon together, everyone sitting on the grass, talking, eating hotdogs and burgers, sharing stories, laughing. Shaun and Stevie had joined them shortly after Corinne, and Chuck had wandered over with Sarah to sit with them. Even Merle, who had come over with Heather, seemed to be on his best behavior and joined in the easy atmosphere.

Daryl's fingers had found Aisling's and played with them on the grass behind their backs, and occasionally their eyes would meet and they'd share a shy secret smile.

 _He's so fucking cute_.

 

When it was time to head home Daryl hung back a little with Aisling as the others walked ahead to their cars.

"You doin' anything tomorrow?"

"I'm filming late. Next week is going to be a bitch with loads of late nights." Aisling noticed Daryl's defences go up slightly, his shoulders stiffening "Fine, ok, whatever-"

"But I'm free Friday night though" she cut him off before he could shut down completely.

 

Daryl realized what had just happened and was thankful that she'd stepped in before he'd made an ass of himself again. They were back at the cars and he wanted to pull her into his arms again, but wouldn't let himself with so many people around. "Can I call ya? Do something'?"

Aisling nodded "Please, do… that would be good" and his fingers gently brushed against hers by way of a goodbye.


	14. Chapter 14

"So, where ya gonna take her?" Chuck asked Daryl over lunch in the diner on Monday. Daryl bit his lip, deep in thought. "Was thinkin' 'bout that drive-in over in Atlanta. Ain't got no movie theater here, we'd be outdoors… an' I ain't gotta worry 'bout thinkin' of somethin' to say."

He scanned his friend's face for a reaction. Having never been on a date in his life, Daryl didn't know whether his drive-in idea was a good one or not, but Chuck nodded enthusiastically. "My brother's gone with his girl a few times. They really like it."

Daryl sighed with relief and the corner of his mouth curled up into a small smile as he began to eat his sandwich, more relaxed now that his idea hadn't been shot down.

"What's goin' on with you an' that actor chick? Sara? You two seem pretty friendly." he asked, wondering what was happening between his friend and the redhead.

"Sarah," Chuck corrected him, grinning broadly "Goin' out for dinner with her on Friday night". He smiled proudly and chuckled quietly "Man, who'd have thought we'd be datin' tv stars."

 

*.*

 

Aisling was sitting in makeup when her phone rang, and she smiled happily when she noticed Daryl's name on the display.

"Hey" His low, rasping voice sent shivers through her, and she squirmed slightly in the chair.

"Hey!" She tried, and failed, to suppress the tiny giggle which escaped her lips.

 

_Shit, she sounds so fuckin' cute. What am I gonna' say? Hate talkin' on the damn phone._

"Wanna go see a movie on Friday?"

Aisling nodded, then remembered that he couldn't see her and said "Yeah, I'd love to."

"I'll pick you up at 7.30, 'kay?"

"Okay, that's great."

"A'right, bye." He hung up abruptly, and Aisling laughed out loud at his succinct telephone manner. Aisling loved that Daryl was so different from all the other men she'd been involved with. Working in a profession populated by verbose self-promoters, she found his economy with words refreshing, and incredibly cute.

 

*.*

 

Aisling had never been to a drive-in before, and was excited to go to her first with Daryl. "Y'aint got them in Ireland?" he asked, pulling his truck into a space near the trees so that the truck bed faced the screen up ahead.

"No… we don't really have the weather for them, I guess" she shrugged, looking around at all the other people setting up to enjoy the movie. Some had brought tables and chairs which they set up behind their cars, others were sitting in the trunks of cars, and kids ran around playing football and frisbee as they waited for the evening's entertainment to get underway.

"Did you come to these things lots when you were a kid?" she asked, trying to imagine a young Daryl and Merle playing like that.

"Nah," he shook his head and laughed, softly "never had money for shit like that. First time I've been here too. C'mon, let's get set up."

 

Daryl hopped out of his seat and unloaded a couple of blankets and some pillows he'd brought from home, thankful that Chuck had offered some advice on how best to enjoy the experience. He spread one blanket out on the truck bed to protect her clothes from the dirt, and set the pillows up at the back of the cab for them to lean against. Satisfied with the arrangement, he motioned for her to hop up onto the truck "Gonna go get us some popcorn an' sodas."

 

Aisling watched as he strode off towards the refreshment building, grateful that he couldn't see her ungainly attempt to climb into the back of the truck. As she sat with her back cushioned by the old plaid pillows Daryl had brought, she looked around at the rapidly filling drive-in as the sky darkened. Among all the families and groups of friends there were other couples also sitting on blankets in the back of trucks, and Aisling smiled to herself as she wondered if Daryl had got advice on how to enjoy the drive-in from a friend.

He watched her as he walked back to his truck, sitting up with her back against the cab, her profile lit by her phone, and he bit his lip. When she'd skipped out of her house that evening towards his truck his breath had caught in his throat. She was so fucking perfect. Daryl couldn't quite believe that this beautiful young woman, her long pale legs disappearing up underneath her red sundress, was smiling at  _him_. And here she was, sitting in the back of his truck, waiting for  _him_.

 

On the drive over he'd asked about her family, and she had told him about her brothers – one older, one younger – and her parents who had recently separated after thirty years and several affairs. She had been brought up by boarding schools and nannies, so different from how Daryl had been dragged up by Merle, and didn't see a lot of her parents. He related to how she'd felt like an inconvenience. Even though their upbringings were very different, they had both been hurt by a lack of familial tenderness, and knowing how hard that had hit him as a young boy he felt sad that Aisling had felt a similar pain when she was a little girl. As he sat down beside her in the truck and she smiled up at him, he wondered how anyone could not want to make her happy and have that gorgeous, addictive smile directed at them, knowing they were responsible for it.

 

The screen lit up and Daryl wrapped his arm around Aisling, pulling her close to him. The heat from his body warmed her as their thighs touched, and she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. His fingers gently stroked the exposed skin of her shoulder, sending electric shocks through her body.

_I am so fucking happy. Why is this so different? Why does he affect me like nobody else?_

 

After a while, as the handsome screen hero reassured his family that he would find them when he had finished his work in the lab and found a cure for the zombies plaguing the earth, Aisling heard Daryl quietly whisper her name, his breath hot against her ear.

She turned her face to look at him in the light of the drive-in screen, and her heart began to pound as she realized how close their faces were. Slowly, his head inclined and his lips pressed against hers. "Been waitin' to do that all damn week" he breathed against her full, moist mouth, and Aisling's stomach tightened in pleasure. His rough, calloused hand gently cupped her face, pulling it closer and holding it just where he wanted it, as his tongue slid alongside hers, making Aisling feel dizzy. He tasted of popcorn and smoke, and it was instantly Aisling's most favorite taste ever.

At first their breathing was messy, hurried, with hands tangled in hair and soft moans escaping into the air around them. As they settled into their kisses their breath evened out and became less fraught, and the movement of their mouths became slower and more purposeful, like Daryl's movements when he was hunting.

 

Before they knew it, the movie had finished and they reluctantly pulled apart, their lips swollen and suddenly cold without the warmth of the others. Daryl leaned his forehead against Aisling's and traced the outline of her mouth with the pad of his thumb, gently tugging her lower lip.

"Wow…" she sighed, quietly, staring up into his blue eyes. He smiled, momentarily bashful, before he pressed a quick kiss to her lips and whispered "Yeah… wow" back, giving her a little smirk.

 

*.*

 

When Daryl's truck pulled into Aisling's driveway and drew to a halt it was only a matter of seconds before their mouths found each others again. "Want to come in?" she moaned as his tongue gently flicked against her lips.

Of course Daryl wanted to come in. He wanted nothing more than to stomp into her house, push her up against the wall and tear that damn flimsy summer dress off her body, feel her skin on his skin, be inside her… but he wanted to do this... whatever it was they were doing... properly. Daryl didn't want Aisling to be a fully clothed, two minute fuck against his truck. The only sexual experiences he knew weren't what he wanted for her. He wanted to take his time, make her feel good. Daryl didn't know how to to do that, but he wanted to take it slow and learn, for Aisling.

 

The feelings that she caused to surge through his body were new, exciting, and terrifying, but  _so_  good. He knew, as he slid his hands down to her thighs and squeezed her toned flesh, that if he went into her house it wouldn't be long before he lost all control, and Aisling didn't deserve that. Daryl didn't want that for her. To Daryl, Aisling was all champagne, diamonds and luxury, and while he didn't have those things to give to her, he sure as hell wasn't going to treat her as he'd treated the other women he'd been with.

 

"I gotta' go" he gasped against her open mouth, twisting his head so that he was able to look down into those big green eyes of hers. She nodded, silently, her face initially crumpled with a frown of frustration. She knew that this was new to Daryl, and whatever his reason for taking this thing slowly she respected his decision. As much as she wanted to wrap her legs around his hips and impale herself on him, she knew that his hesitancy wasn't a tease, designed to have her begging for him like men she'd known before. He wanted to take this slowly, and while she wasn't delighted to put her needs on hold, she was content to let Daryl set the pace of their… whatever this was.

 

"Y'know that Confederate prisoner of war camp you were talking about last week?" he cleared his throat and pushed his hair from his eyes. She had talked about the place to Shaun at the plantation last week, as somewhere that would help inform her character, and could be somewhere she wanted to take photos.

She nodded, straightening her dress over her thighs.

"Found out where it is… thought you might wanna go see it tomorrow, take your camera?"

He had remembered that? She swallowed down the urge to devour his mouth and settled for a nod. "Sounds good" she replied, her mouth still close to his.

"I'll pick you up after lunch tomorrow then?" he asked, his breath hot on her mouth. She could only nod briefly before she had to lean forward and press her mouth against his again, eager to feel those strong, hot lips on hers.

"Tomorrow, then" he gasped, pulling back to break the kiss that threatened to dissolve his reserve. His pants were already tenting uncomfortably with want.

Aisling nodded, then got out of the truck and walked up to her door, wanting nothing more than to run back and straddle him… feel him against her.

 

_Not too late…. Could still go up there an' lift that fuckin' dress up, feel her on me…_

After a moment of what looked like hesitation she went through the door, and Daryl groaned loudly as he scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair.


	15. Chapter 15

Daryl leaned back against the old stone wall and lit a cigarette, looking up at the black clouds that had gathered ominously overhead. "Gonna start rainin' soon" he called across to Aisling who was crouched in front of what used to be a doorway with her camera to her face.

He didn't see the attraction the old crumbled walls and piles of rock held for Aisling, but it fascinated him watching her lithe body move around the ruins, occasionally reaching out and running her fingers across the stones. She had gasped as they had pulled up on Merle's bike, and she had hopped off quickly, her brown leather camera bag slung across her back.

 

"This is perfect" she had breathed, turning round to smile at him before she quickly unpacked her camera and began to pace around the stones.

"This is the kind of place Ellen was brought to," she told him, referring to her character in the show. "After Aiden rapes her, he accuses her of being a Union spy, and she's thrown in prison."

 

Daryl's eyes snapped open wide and he frowned at her back as she leaned in to look closely at the scattered remains of a stone floor. "He rapes ya'?" The hairs on his arms stood up and he felt his muscles clench uncomfortably. His mind raced, and even though he knew that what she did was all 'make believe', as she put it, the idea of her enacting something so brutal made him feel nauseous.

Aisling stood up and walked back to him, touching the taut skin on his bicep gently. "Not me, my character," she said softly "She has a pretty shitty time of it in America, the poor thing."

"Better not fuckin' hurt ya" he growled, his voice deep in his throat, and Aisling's stomach tightened at the masculine sound.

"You going to protect me?" she smiled, running her fingers down his arm to his hand, her touch teasing him. "Ain't doin' a great job of doin' it yourself" he grunted, twisting her arm slightly to look at a dark bruise on the inside of her upper arm that he hadn't noticed in the dark of the drive-in last night.

"How'd that happen?"

"A fence post" she shrugged, "I tried climbing over a fence in the dark and missed a plank, or whatever it's called… smacked my arm down on the post trying to stop myself from falling."

Daryl ran his fingers gently over the dark mark "Thought ya had stunt doubles n'all for doin' shit like that?"

"Oh, we do! For actual dangerous stuff though, not for taking a shortcut in a long dress on the way back from a sneaky pee in the woods…. I'm not famous enough to have someone go pee for me."

 

Daryl snorted and pulled her close to him. He loved how she was able to diffuse his moods. He leaned his face down and pressed his mouth to hers, just as the first heavy drops of rain plopped onto their faces and arms.

"Shit,"he groaned, as he pulled back slightly and squinted up at the darkening sky "Gotta get back. Don't wanna ride in a storm with you on the back of the bike."

Aisling quickly packed her camera bag and slung it around her back, then hopped onto the bike behind Daryl. The rain was coming down heavily now. He twisted his head around to speak to her as she wrapped her arms around his waist "Gonna go to my place, 'kay? It's closer."

She nodded, and he started the bike, carefully steering them out onto the track, then the road as the rain hammered against them.

 

* * *

 

As he pulled the bike into the scrappy yard in front of the flaking white board fronted house, Daryl wished that he didn't live in such a shithole. He led Aisling quickly up the three steps to the front door with it's ratty screen and opened it for her, allowing her to enter the clean and surprisingly tidy interior first. Closing the door behind him, he saw Aisling shiver, her cheeks flushed and wet, her hair pasted to her face. They were both soaked to the skin.

"We gotta get these wet things off" he said, and as he pulled his wet shirt out from his chest it released a sucking sound before it slapped back soggily against his skin. "I'll get ya something to put on, an' put your stuff in the dryer."

 

He disappeared through a door off the small living room, and Aisling took the opportunity to glance around the room. A small kitchen area lay off to the right, and on the left a tatty gray couch and an old brown leather recliner sat in front of a fireplace. A television and a metal cabinet – for guns, she assumed – were the only other furniture in the room. The house smelt like him, like smoke, leather and fresh air, and she smiled, excited to be in Daryl's home.

He reappeared a minute or two later, barefoot in black sweatpants and a faded black Falcons shirt with the sleeves torn off, and left the door open as he gestured back at what she could see was a bedroom "Left ya some clothes in there."

 

Daryl's bedroom was small, but like the rest of his home that she'd seen, was clean and orderly. A navy-blue fleece blanket lay folded neatly on top of the blue sheet covered bed, and two thin blue pillows lay at the head of the bed by the wall. A large hip-height window ran the length of the room, with a bamboo shade rolled up above it to allow the light in from the small yard at the rear of the house.

As Aisling kicked off her sandals and peeled the soaking jeans from her legs she noticed the well thumbed motorcycle catalog on the nightstand and smiled at Daryl's choice of bedtime reading. She pulled off her wet t-shirt and used the towel Daryl had left on the bed to dry some of the rain from her hair, before she pulled on the soft gray t-shirt he had left out for her.

The navy sweatpants fell down and pooled around her ankles as soon as she let go of the waistband, so she folded them up and checked the length of the shirt. Satisfied that it was decent, she gathered her wet clothes and went back into the living room.

 

"The sweatpants were a bit… big" her voice surprised him as he knelt in front of the fireplace, watching the flames curl up the sticks as the small fire he'd lit began to take. His breath caught in his throat as he drank in the sight of her standing in his bedroom doorway, wearing his t-shirt… only his t-shirt. She tugged self-consciously at the end of the shirt with one hand as her other held the clothes she'd changed out of.

 

He felt a swell of pride in his chest as he looked at her, his girl, in his house, in his clothes.

_My girl. Wait, is she my girl?_

He had an urge to pick her up and carry her to his bed, but instead he took her clothes from her and put them in the dryer in a small closet off the kitchen.

 _Least let her dry off, 'fore ya jump her._  When he came back she was sitting on his beaten up old couch, her long legs curled up beneath her.

 

"Is Merle around?" she asked, wondering if perhaps she should have tried harder to keep the sweatpants up, and tugged the t-shirt down a little to cover more of her thighs.

"He's off doin' something in Americus with Fat Bobby, won't be back 'til tomorrow." He watched Aisling relax slightly, then she pursed her lips and asked "Why is Fat Bobby called Fat Bobby?"

Daryl shrugged "'Cause he's so skinny? I dunno, Merle jus' always called him that. His name ain't even Bobby… s'Elrod." Aisling's loud snort made him jump, and she clasped her hands in front of her face as her shoulders shook with laughter.

"You laughin' at us rednecks?" he teased, prodding her knee as he sat down on the couch beside her. "No… no," she gasped, wiping the tears that had escaped from the corner of her eyes "I'm not. It's just…." she dissolved into giggles again "it's just funny."

"Merle loves givin' people names" he smiled, thinking back over some he'd heard over the years. "Ain't never gonna use someone's real name if he can think up a better one."

 

"Have you always lived here together?" she asked, looking around for any evidence of either brother in the room, and finding none. There were no personal effects, save the keys on the kitchen counter, and Aisling wondered if maybe they had only recently moved in.

"Nah, I took this place when the ol' man died. Merle's jus' been stayin' with me since he got out of prison. That was a year or so ago, though..."

"Would you miss him if he left?"

"Maybe..." Daryl wondered if he would miss Merle, stomping in, shouting, getting high on the couch, polluting Daryl's space with his loud and pungent bodily functions. "Dunno… kinda' used to him here, but he's an asshole… our lives are kinda' different. Definitely wouldn't miss his fuckin' mess though. Man's like a damn tornado, tearin' through, leavin' shit everywhere."

"I never would have had you down as a neat freak, Daryl" Aisling stretched out her leg and poked his thigh gently with her toe. He caught her foot in his strong hand and curled the fingers of his other hand underneath, lightly running them along the arch of her foot. "What, you thought I lived like some kinda' pig?"

She bucked and twisted under his fingers, gasping out "No!" between giggles. "You ticklish, girl, huh?" he asked, his voice low and sexy. "Not at all, NO!" she argued, uselessly, as his fingers continued to stroke over the sole of her foot and she tried to wrench herself free from his strong grasp, all the while giggling and squealing helplessly. His voice had sent a bolt of lust straight to her groin, and if she hadn't been completely incapacitated by tickles, she would have lunged for him there and then.

He relented after a few more seconds, but instead of letting go he kept her foot clasped in his hands, resting on his lap. He hadn't realized he was still holding it at first, but when he noticed and she didn't try to pull away he kept it there, enjoying the feeling of her little foot in his large hands.

 

"Can I ask you somethin'?" he asked, kneading her foot distractedly. He chewed his lip, and she nodded.

"Saw the video… you an' that band..." his voice trailed off, not sure now how to actually ask the questions that he had in mind.

"Did you like it?" she asked, biting the lip nervously.

"Yeah… hot as hell." A blush rose up his cheeks as the words fell from his mouth.

"Yeah…?" Aisling teased, making his cheeks burn even redder and hotter than before.

_Damn woman! Knows what she's doin' to me…_

 

"So, what do you want to know about it?" Her openness surprised him, and he eyed her from beneath the hair that fell in his eyes.

Clearing his throat, he continued squeezing her foot as he asked "You were… um, naked... with all those guys there?" He worked hard at keeping his voice even, not allowing the little bubble of jealousy inside him grow and fizz up.

"I wasn't completely naked, and they weren't there all the time. I had a modesty patch, down there" she gestured to her crotch, "and flesh colored pasties on my nipples. They'd probably see more at the beach."

Daryl was at once relieved, and flustered. He'd lost count of the amount of times he had jerked off watching, or thinking about, the video, but there was always a twinge of jealousy alongside that of arousal when he tried to imagine the process of making it.

_Good Lord! Can't stop blushin' like a teenage girl. Why'd she have to go mentionin' her damn nipples? And what the fuck's a modesty patch?_

"I'm glad you liked it." she added, softly. "I like it. Plus, it's something I can maybe show my grandkids one day and say 'Hey, look, I used to be cool, once!'"

 

 

The rain beat down on the window behind them as they talked about family, kids, and their expectations for the future. When he was younger Daryl was determined to never have a family of his own, terrified that he was destined to repeat the mistakes of his parents. After his father died, and he'd spent less time with Merle, he had learned that he could be a better man than his father. As he watched Shaun and Corinne have their kids and grow and adapt into a little family over the years, he'd felt a yearning for something similar grow inside him.

 

It wasn't something he let himself think about much though, because the pain of admitting that it would probably never happen was too much like rejection, and Daryl had become an expert at blocking out things which hurt him. He'd never met a woman he wanted to spend more than fifteen minutes with, never mind marry and raise a family with, until he'd met Aisling. As he watched her twist around to gaze out the window at the rain, the dim light reflecting in her eyes, he found himself slipping into an imaginary future where she didn't have to leave. She would stay, and they would be together, and the little nagging want within him wouldn't be something he'd have to push down.

Shaking his head back to reality he stood up abruptly.

"Hungry?"

"Always" she smiled, patting her tummy lightly.

 

* * *

 

They ate the lasagne Corinne had sent in to work with Shaun for him, and Daryl smiled as he watched her eat enthusiastically, talking all the while, gesturing with her fork and she spoke.

"Ya feelin' comfortable round me now?" he smirked, and Aisling blushed slightly before she nodded. "You aren't put off by the piggyness yet?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"S'cute."

 

He washed up their dishes as she dried, until a bright flash of lightning from outside made her jump and squeak. It was followed almost immediately by a low rumble of thunder, and Daryl peered out the window into the darkness outside.

"Don't look like it's gonna stop any time soon..." he turned around, finding her standing closer than he had anticpated, and cleared his throat "You wanna stay over?"

She nodded, looking up at him through her thick, dark eyelashes. "If you don't mind?"

"Ain't no trouble. I'll take the couch" he pointed uselessly to the couch, as if she had forgotten what one was.

"No! I'll take the couch. I don't want you giving up your bed for me."

He swatted her lightly with the towel he'd dried his hands on "You always so damn obstinate?"

"Not always" she said with a little smile, and bit the corner of her lower lip before she stretched up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Daryl's soft lips that he'd been waiting for since the rain began.

 

He moaned quietly into her mouth, parting her lips quickly with his tongue, causing Aisling to gasp softly. She reached up, holding his face in her hands, the brown and gray hair there rough beneath her fingers.

Daryl gripped Aisling's arms with his large hands, feeling the toned muscle under her smooth skin, and steered them over to the wall behind them. He wanted more contact between their bodies. It was a clumsy maneuver, their mouths desperate not to part, neither sure where the others feet were going. Her back collided unexpectedly with the hard wall, and the front of Daryl's hard body was propelled against her, causing her to breathe out a small "ooff" of surprise.

 

"Y'okay?" he pulled himself away from her lips for a moment, resting his forehead against hers as he searched her eyes for confirmation that she wanted to do this as much as he did.

"More than okay." Aisling's hands slid down his back to rest on the waistband of his sweatpants, and pressed gently, pulling his hips closer to her.

"You?" Daryl's hands were in her hair, twisting his fingers through long, soft, locks. He pulled away from her lips and leaned his face into her neck, breathing in the clove smell of her shampoo and the faint scent of rain on her skin.

"Yeah..." he murmured into sensitive skin behind her ear "Hell, yeah."

 

Aisling breathed out a tiny whimper as Daryl's tongue traced a tentative line from her earlobe to the base of her throat, pausing occasionally to suck tiny kisses against her flesh. He was working on pure instinct, but with every tiny moan, every tightening of her fingers on his shoulders, his confidence grew, and his mind raced with a desire and curiosity he'd never experienced before. When he gently nipped at the soft skin at the base of her throat with his teeth he was rewarded with the soft exhalation of his name from her lips, and the sound went straight to his groin.

He slid his hands down her body, over her firm, round ass, and pulled her up to allow her long legs to wrap around his hips. Their faces level now, Daryl moved back along her jaw to her mouth in a series of small, wet kisses before he kissed her deep, and slow.

Gripping her tight, his large hands clasping her bottom, he pulled back from the wall and went towards his bedroom. Aisling wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her, aware of the thick hardness pressing against her.

 

Her heart was pounding in her chest as he laid her down gently on his bed. She grabbed at Daryl's shoulders, pulling him down to lie on top of her. Their hips moved rhythmically together, as his mouth closed over hers again, Aisling squirming slightly with the pressure of his hard dick rubbing up against her through the thin layers of clothing. Tongues swirled in hot mouths, lips swollen with the heat of their kisses, hands grasping desperately for each other's bodies.

 

She felt trembling fingers slip underneath the t-shirt at her thighs and trace their way up, over her hips and the sides of her white cotton panties, until they settled just below the swell of her breasts, and he began a slow exploration of the curves he'd been aching to touch for so long.

Eager to see more of her skin, Daryl tugged the fabric of the shirt up, awkwardly pulling it over her head, and she twisted her arms to allow him to free her and throw the shirt onto the floor. Daryl drank in the sight of the smooth, pale skin exposed to him. There was the tattoo. Acting on impulse, he quickly dipped his head to run his tongue over the little feather on her hip, releasing a shuddering breath as he did so. Her skin tasted delicious. Both sweet and faintly salty at the same time, and as he traced his tongue up across her taut stomach, and over her ribs, a low growl escaped his throat.

 

"Gotta see ya, sweetheart."

_Jesus… his voice!_

His fingers ran around to her back, fumbling with the clasp of her bra for a few moment until she reached around and helped him to unhook it. He smoothed down first one strap, then the other, before pulling the white lacy garment free and tossing it to the floor to join the shirt.

_Fuck… prettiest thing I ever saw._

Aisling's breasts were full, smooth white mounds of pliant flesh, topped with perfect round nipples, as pink as her lips. He circled one slowly with his index finger, watching as it stiffened, before treating it to the same, slow, graze of his tongue that he'd given to her tattoo. He sucked greedily at one hard nipple, then the other, his dick growing even harder by the second.

 

Then, something happened.

Aisling ran her hands down Daryl's sides and tugged gently at the back of his t-shirt, wanting to feel his skin against hers. Suddenly, his hips stopped grinding against hers, his tongue ceased flicking at one nipple as his fingers stilled in their gentle tugging of the other, and he just froze.

"You've got too many clothes on, Daryl."

 

He lowered his head slowly onto her chest, his breathing evening out, and gently brushed his lips against the valley between her breasts.

"S'gettin' late. Oughta' get some sleep."

His breath was hot against her skin.

 

_What the hell did I do? Why is he just switching off like this? Fuck, no..._

"Daryl, did I do something wrong?"

He moved up to lie beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her close to him. "Didn't do nothin' wrong. Just… just tired, s'all."

He pressed his lips to her temple and exhaled slowly, while Aisling tried to regulate her breathing again. He obviously had a reason for freezing like that, but she had no idea what it was.

"Do you want me to go?" she whispered into the darkness of the room, afraid of what his answer might be.

"Don't want ya goin' anywhere, Ash. Want ya here, 'kay?"

 

He reached down and shook out the fleece blanket, then pulled it up over their bodies and pulled her close again. Lying there with her soft body in his arms, he thought about the day and how perfect it had been until he'd seized up. It had been the single best day of his life, having this amazing girl in his arms, the taste of her skin, the feel of her body beneath his.

Daryl wanted to reassure Aisling, but he couldn't think of anything to say which wouldn't involve a discussion about his scars. He'd wanted nothing more than to carry on, but nobody had ever seen the marks his Daddy had left on him, apart from Merle, and even he had only seen them once after he'd come off the bike one time and his shirt had gotten ripped. Daryl wasn't prepared for Aisling to see him just yet, to pity him or feel disgust at the thick ropes of granular scar tissue that crossed his back and torso.

_Gotta get yer head round this, man. Can't freeze like that again on her, makin' her think she's done somethin' wrong._

He pressed another soft kiss against her mouth, running his tongue across her lower lip before gently sucking it in, in reassurance that he still wanted her… wanted this, and Aisling allowed herself to relax. He still wanted her. He didn't want her to go. She had no idea what she'd done, but at least she hadn't ruined things completely.

 

As the heavy summer rain beat against the window he fell asleep before her, one arm wrapped around her waist, his breath coming soft and even on her forehead as she lay her head on his shoulder.

_I know this is too soon, and I'm leaving, and this is all so complicated, but… I think I'm falling in love with you, Daryl Dixon._


	16. Chapter 16

The early morning birdsong and the need to pee pulled Aisling gradually from sleep. The first rays of sunlight filtered through the bamboo blind at the window, and she slowly registered that she wasn't in her own bed.

Daryl lay behind her, pressed against her back. His tanned, muscular arm was draped heavily across her waist and his hand lay cupped around her breast, securing her body tightly to him. She felt his hot, steady breath on the skin at the nape of her neck and smiled.

 

She thought back to last night, and how Daryl's mouth had felt on her body. How good the thick length of his erection had felt as it rubbed against her panties, making her so hungry for him.

But he had stopped, and as much as she'd tried to figure out what had happened she was still perplexed.

As they'd lain together last night, Daryl's chest rising and falling in sleep beneath her head, Aisling remembered that he had told her he had tattoos on his chest and back… was it a woman's name? Was that what he hadn't wanted her to see? It was all her sleepy mind could come up with, so it was all she had to go on for now. Last night was yet more evidence of how closed off Daryl could become, and Aisling didn't think that quizzing him would encourage him to open up at all, so all she could do was wait and see if he would volunteer up any information himself.

 

 _Damn my stupid tiny bladder_.

Reaching back to slowly lift his arm from her waist, Aisling disentangled herself from Daryl's grasp as gently as she could, before quietly going out to the bathroom.

Daryl had woken as soon as Aisling had begun to move, but feigned sleep.

 

Holding her while she slept had felt so, so good, and he didn't want to let her go. For a moment, before she returned, he wondered if she might sneak out, but he heard her slip back into the room and felt the bed dip as she climbed back in beside him, and he felt soothed again. Silently, she nestled her body back against his and pulled his arm around her again.

Her tiny contented sigh broke the silence of the room. Snuggling down, she pressed a kiss to the star tattoo on Daryl's hand before she returned it to her breast. She could feel him hard against the cheek of her ass, and bit her bottom lip as she smirked and pressed herself back against him.

_Damn, girl knows exactly what she's doin' .._

 

"Mornin'" His voice was low, thick with sleep, and the vibration of his lips against her neck made her shiver.

"Morning..." She arched her back, pushing her breast further into Daryl's hand. His hot, wet mouth slowly roamed her neck, then traveled down to the soft creamy skin of her shoulder. Aisling pressed her backside harder against his throbbing erection, sending a jolt of heat speeding through his body.

Her nipple was hard against his palm, and as he rubbed the rough pad of his thumb across it a delicious moan escaped her lips.

"Fuck… Ash."

 

Daryl wanted those lips on his again. Lying back on the bed he pulled Aisling around so that she lay on top of him, and with one knee either side of his hips her mouth met his as he leaned up to kiss her, deep, and slow. Aisling ran her fingers up his muscled arms and felt the tension in his broad shoulders.

His hands slid up the outside of her smooth thighs to her hips, then crept up her sides to just below the curve of her breasts before he cupped them and lifted his head to flick his tongue across one nipple, then the other.

Their hips rocked in time together, the friction of her pussy moving against his cock left them breathless. He could feel her warmth through the thin fabric of his sweat pants and her panties.

Her head fell back slightly, her eyes closed as Daryl's hands squeezed her breasts, watching her.

_Fuck… ain't gonna last…_

 

As her lips parted a tiny whimper escaped, and her breath became ragged. The sight and sound, together with the feeling of her body grinding on his, sent him shuddering over the edge and as he came he wrapped his arms around her body, holding her tightly to him. He gasped and bucked his hips up against her.

 

They lay there together, trying to get their breath back, their bodies boneless and exhausted. Aisling nestled her face into the crook of Daryl's neck and tried to stifle a dopey giggle as Ron Burgundy popped into head, raising a beer.

 _Well, that escalated quickly_.

Pushing her back onto the bed Daryl propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. He smirked "Whatcha gigglin' at, girl?"

Aisling shook her head. "Nothing. Just… that was nice."

He nodded, looking down at those sleepy green eyes. "Best damn wake up I ever had." She raised her hand to gently stroke his jaw, stopping when she got to the longer scratchy hairs on his chin to move her fingers up to trace over his lips. He kissed her fingertips and shifted slightly so that he could rest his head on her chest, and listen to her heart beat.

"Ain't never slept with a woman before" he admitted, chewing at his lip as he waited for her reaction.

"You've never..." Aising couldn't work out what he was telling her "You're a…?"

He snorted, quietly, and gently prodded her belly as he ran a finger around her navel. "Ain't a virgin. Just… a couple of drunken fucks that meant nothin'… don't want it to be like that with you. Want it to be different.." he trailed off.

 

His own honesty surprised him. This girl had him saying things that he'd never have thought he would say to anyone, and it confused and scared him. The furious heat from his cheek warmed her skin beneath it, and he looked up through his hair to see her smiling at him.

"You're so different to how I'd expected."

"Whadd'ya mean? What were ya expectin'?"

"I don't know" Aisling shrugged "I kind of thought you might be the type to throw a girl up over your shoulder and have your way with her up against a tree or something, if I'm honest."

He laughed, his breath tickling her breast. "Ain't ever had my way with anyone up against a tree… yet." Aisling smiled as Daryl smirked up at her. His fingertips traced circles around her nipple, and he thought that, even though he was baring a lot more of his soul than he'd ever done before, and blushing like a teenager, it actually felt good. Still scary, still confusing, but also… real good.

 

A car door slammed from outside, and a second or two later the sound of the front door being thrown open made them both sit up quickly.

"Daryl? You here baby brother?" Merle yelled from the living room.

 

Daryl leaped to his feet and stood by the door, not sure what to do. "Fuck!" Aisling hissed, frantically waving her hands at the discarded bra and t-shirt on the floor. He threw them over to her, watching as she quickly dressed, and checked to see that his sweatpants situation was calm, presentable, with everything where it should be.

"Wakey wakey! Rise an' shine, sleepin' beauty!"

Aisling got up to stand behind Daryl, and nervously smoothed her messed up hair with her hands. He bent down and quickly kissed her forehead, before straightening up and opening the door.

 

"Well, the dead arose and appeared to many!" Merle called over from the kitchen as he rummaged in the fridge for something to eat. "It's gonna take more than beauty sleep to fix your ugl-"

Merle stopped mid-sentence as he spotted the little brunette hiding behind Daryl, tugging nervously at the hem of what looked like his brother's t-shirt.

"Well, well, well…. What do we have here?" Merle left the fridge and sauntered over towards the guilty looking pair in the doorway. "Who's that I see hidin' behind ya, Darylina? Is that my little Celtic queen?"

"Shut up Merle." Daryl walked towards the kitchen and filled the jug of the coffee maker with water.

Merle held his arms out to Aisling "Ain't you a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart! C'mere and give your ol' pal Merle a hug!" She side stepped him, following Daryl towards the kitchen, sticking her tongue out at Merle as she went.

He let out a loud laugh, and dropped heavily into a chair at the small kitchen table.

"So, you two lovebirds finally got round to bumpin' uglies, eh? I gotta admit, I was startin' to think my little baby brother didn't have it in him."

"I said shut up, Merle!" Daryl shouted over, "Quit bein' such a jackass!"

 

Aisling took her phone from the counter and sat in a chair on the opposite side of the table to Merle and watched as he grinned first at Daryl, then at her.

"You might wanna examine your technique, sugartits, 'cause my baby brother here sounds awful grumpy. Why, I'd have thought he oughta be skippin' about like a newborn lamb, singin' showtunes an' shit, after finally gettin' you in the sack."

Aisling rolled her eyes at him and checked the messages on her phone. Merle was trying to get a reaction, and she was determined not to give him one. She guessed, correctly, that he'd give up eventually.

 

As Daryl cooked bacon and eggs for breakfast, Aisling showed Merle the photos from their shoot. He was uncharacteristically quiet as he scrolled through them on Aisling's phone, nodding occasionally. The last picture, of him and Daryl together, held his attention the longest and Aisling wondered what he was thinking. When he laid the phone back in front of her he tapped her hand lightly with his forefinger.

"Did good, princess."

He gave her a small smile, then his eyes went to Daryl, who was taking plates from a cupboard. He shook his head slightly, then shouted "C'mon, hurry up! My stomach's gonna start digestin' it's damn self if I have to wait much longer!"

* * *

 

Eating breakfast with the Dixon brothers went as Aisling had assumed it would. Merle laughed as he told them about Fat Bobby getting punched by some guy for hitting on his daughter at a truck stop outside Americus. "Serves him right, cheatin' on Arleen all the time," Daryl scoffed through a mouthful of bacon.

"Oh, he's a dog alright," Merle mused, glancing across at Aisling who was doing something with her phone. "Good thing us Dixons know how to treat a lady, ain't that right Daryl?"

Daryl stared at his brother in disbelief for a moment, before finishing off his breakfast without comment. Merle and his father had been perfect role models of how  _not_  to treat a lady. Granted, Merle prided himself on never hitting a woman, as though it was some noble, upstanding characteristic to have rather than just basic human decency, but he still treated his women like shit.

_Why buy the cow when you can drink the milk for free, baby brother?_

 

When they had finished, Aisling stood up, collected their plates and brought them over to the sink. Daryl noticed Merle cast an approving eye over her long legs.

"Keep your damn eyes off of her."

Merle held his hands up in mock surrender at his brother's hissed order and smiled a broad, tight-lipped smile at his brother, "Only human, man."

 

Aisling checked her phone again and sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. "I have to go. Sarah and I are meeting for lunch, and then we're getting pedicures and going shopping." She would much rather have stayed with Daryl, but she needed a shower and change of clothes, and she was curious to find out how her cast mate's dinner with Chuck had gone on Friday.

Daryl's heart sank a little. He'd hoped that they could have hung out some more… spent more time in his bedroom, maybe gone for a walk in the woods behind the house.

"I'll drive ya. Just gotta get cleaned up first."

 

He showered and dressed in the bathroom while Aisling pulled on the clothes he'd got from the dryer for her.

Merle picked up the motorcycle magazine he'd brought home with him and saluted Aisling with it. "Nice seein' ya, missy. Now, if ya'll will excuse me, I gotta go release the hostages." He strode off into the bathroom and locked the door behind him, leaving Aisling and Daryl standing in the living room.

"See what I gotta live with?" Daryl muttered, and grabbed the keys to his truck.

* * *

 

"Ya got plans for this week? Wanna meet up?"

"I want to..."

"But…?" Daryl shot her a sideways glance, briefly wondering if he was getting the brush off.

"I'm going to New York on Thursday for a few days, so filming's a bit mad this week. We could have lunch though? If you'd like?"

"S'pose it'll have to do" he grumbled, and Aisling giggled. "What ya laughin' at?"

Aisling stretched her arm out and ran her fingers gently along his bicep, "Us. It took us so bloody long to get to this, and now… well, now it feels like there's never any time to see each other."

Daryl turned over an idea forming in his head, wondering if he might be able to work something out.

"You free next Friday, durin' the day?"

Aisling thought for a moment, then nodded "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I am. Why?"

"Jus' keep it free, yeah? We'll do somethin'. Keep the weekend free."

 

They pulled up at her house and Daryl killed the engine.

"What are you planning for next week then?" she asked, sliding across the seat to be closer to him.

"Don't know. Might be nothin'. Gotta check some stuff first… now, no more questions, 'kay?" and at that he wrapped his hand in the hair at the back of her neck and pulled her face towards his. As his lips closed over hers, Aisling reached up to hold his face. She would never, ever get tired of kissing him.

 

She pulled back slightly to look at him, his lips damp and parted, those blue eyes studying her face.

"Did things go too quickly for you this morning? Y'know… me just grinding on you like that?" She blushed slightly as she asked, embarrassed at the speed with which she had moved things on between them when he'd woken up.

He gave her a little bashful half smile before shaking his head "Hell no. Reckon if Merle hadn't come in we'd have been doin' other stuff too."

 

He pushed her hair away from her face before he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "Go on, get in and get ready for all your girlie shit this afternoon."

"You want rid of me that quickly?" she smiled coquettishly at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Naw. Ain't gonna be able to keep ma hands off ya for much longer if ya stay here, s'all."

Aisling gave him a little kiss goodbye and hopped out of the truck. She turned and gave him a little wave of her fingers as she got her keys out to open the door.

 

Daryl couldn't quite believe that this funny, intelligent girl, with her long coltish legs, her full lips, and those amazing green eyes had chosen him, Daryl Dixon, of all people.


	17. Chapter 17

Andy lay back on the hideous brown and orange couch in his trailer, unable to focus on the printed words swimming on the script in front of him.

 

_**ELLEN** : Aiden please..._

_(AIDEN JABS A MANIC FINGER BACK TOWARDS THOMAS)_

_**AIDEN:**  It wasn't Lizzie you were with. Was it?_

_**ELLEN** : What?_

_**AIDEN** : It was Thomas. You were with Thomas._

_(TAKE ELLEN'S REACTION, STUNNED AND AFRAID)_

 

He stretched out his arm and let the pages drop to the floor, then covered his eyes with his hands.

_I just need to get through this. When I get back to London everything will be okay, and I won't need to self-medicate._

He wasn't ready to admit it to himself, but Andy's problems began long before his arrival in Goat Rock. Being a bright new talent on the British acting scene had brought plenty of attention, parties and hype, and what had started as the occasional line to pep himself up before a party, or a shot of whiskey before an interview to loosen himself up, had become more of a crutch that he found harder do without. The hangovers and memories of his out of control behavior the night before often had him reaching for the mirror and rolled up five pound note on his nightstand just to get out of bed in the morning, and breakfast increasingly comprised of nothing more than 'hair of the dog'.

His behavior had alienated people, and a few months in Georgia had seemed like just the ticket to put a bit of space between him and the awkwardness. Andy saw the circumstances as the problem, rather than recognize that the problem lay within him.

_It's not like I'm smoking crack or anything, it's just booze and a bit of charlie._

The calendar on his phone told him that he had exactly thirty four days left in this overheated hellhole. Thirty four days of ticks, bread that tasted funny, working up a sweat just getting out of the shower, no friends, and nothing to do but get out of his mind and fuck hookers that one of the local crew arranged for him.

He missed spending time with Aisling. They'd been close, and had fun together. They never socialized much outside of a work environment, apart from their PR trips, but he thought things could have developed into something if Daryl hadn't distracted her. It was easier than admitting that her distance was his own fault, and the more he thought about it the more he convinced himself that she was to blame for his unhappiness here.

* * *

 

He'd texted Merle the night before and put in an order for an eight-ball, just to see him through, and Merle had duly turned up at the plantation gates that morning as arranged.

"Had the pleasure of your lil' friend's company at breakfast Sunday."

Merle tested the ground, wondering if his suspicions about Andy's feelings for Aisling were correct. He knew they had been friends, but he'd found out from Daryl and Heather that Andy's behavior on set was pissing Aisling off. Merle didn't care enough to stop supplying Andy, but he liked to know the lay of the land, and if there was information he could use to his or Daryl's advantage, he wanted it.

"Huh?" Andy stared at the still unfamiliar bank notes in his hand, trying to figure out how much he needed to hand over.

"Aisling. She stayed for breakfast at my place on Sunday." Merle watched Andy's face carefully.

_Bingo!_

Andy's eyes had snapped to Merle, open wide, and his mouth had dropped open dumbly.

"Oh, didn't you know her and my baby brother have a bit of a… thing goin'?" he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I thought… um, I knew they were friends."

"Oh, they're  _way_  past friends," Merle chuckled, stuffing the money Andy handed over into his pocket, and fished out the little knotted plastic bag. "Didn't she tell ya?"

* * *

 

_Meet tomorrow in diner at 1?_

Aisling was just finishing up a reply to Daryl's text when there was a knock at her trailer door. Andy stuck his head in "You got a minute?"

She nodded and put down the phone. Her interactions with Andy had become so unpredictable on set she didn't know if his appearance heralded an argument or an intense discussion about something like the taste of lemons, or whether everyone saw the color red the same way.

Apart from the occasions where he wanted to talk her ear off about philosophy, he was reserved, unapproachable, and irritable.

 

"Look, we can't go on like this, Ash."

"I know." She'd tried talking to him yesterday, after Simon, the assistant director, had pleaded with her to try clearing the air. He was desperate at this point, and had hoped that since nobody else could get through to Andy, Aisling might. Andy had just shrugged her off and left the set.

"What's going on, Andy? This isn't you. Please, talk to me."

When Andy's handsome face crumpled and he began to sob, standing helplessly in the middle of her trailer, she was too stunned to do anything for a moment. Aisling hated to see people upset, and had an inbuilt need to make every situation okay again, so she went to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"Shhh, it's alright." She let him cry until the neck of her dress was soggy, then pulled his face up to look at him. His eyes were red and puffy, and snot glistened around his nose.

_Jesus, if all the fangirls could see him now their ovaries would explode._

 

They sat on the couch and he vomited out everything that was wrong with Georgia, with him, with their friendship, while Aisling listened. "It's okay for you, you make friends easily. I'm so homesick! I've got nobody here! You don't want to spend any time with me any more!"

The pang of guilt inside her grew when he began to cry again, "I just need a friend."

"Okay, look, stop this. I'll come over tonight and we can talk. I'll bring pizza."

Andy wiped his nose on his sleeve and nodded, smiling weakly at her. That would be good. He said goodbye, and walked back to his trailer with a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

_Another award winning performance, there. Fuck me, I'm good!_

* * *

 

Driving along the country roads to Andy's rented house, Aisling was already regretting her offer to spend an evening with him. It was true that she hadn't spent much time with him since they had arrived, but that wasn't because she was distracted – it was because he was being a colossal arsehole. Sure, he was having problems, but there wasn't much she could do about it if all they did was argue. Perhaps she could have given him more support though… tried harder.

Andy was slurring his words slightly when he opened the door, and continued to swig from a bottle of whiskey as they ate the pizza Aisling had brought, so that by the time they finished he was just straight-out drunk.

"Don't you think you'd find it easier to make friends here if you were sober, Andy?"

"This is just us hanging out! I'm not drunk all the time. What are you, my mother?" he laughed loudly, reaching for the bottle again before Aisling took it away and set it on the table beside her.

"You kind of are though, and if you aren't drunk you're all coked up. You say you're lonely, but being off your face all the time won't help you meet people or settle in to a place." She was trying her hardest not to come across as judgmental, but apparently not hard enough.

"Shut up, I've seen you hoover up lines like a good'un," Andy snarled, pointing an accusatory finger at her and jabbing it into her arm.

"I never took anything at work. It was a recreational thing that-"

Andy cut her off with another jab to the arm "Who the hell do you think you are?! Coming here, giving me the big 'oooh drink and drugs are bad!' like you aren't the one who got pissed, took off all her clothes and tried to get me to shag her."

"That was years ago, Andy… a lot of people get drunk and do silly things. This isn't about that though. You having a genuine problem."

 

This wasn't going anywhere. He was too drunk to talk reasonably, and Aisling's caring mood was rapidly diminishing. Andy needed professional help.

She stood up from the couch and picked up her car keys from the table.

 

"No, no, no, you don't get to come in here all high and mighty, then swan off again when you're bored of me. This is all your fault!"

Aisling shook her head, exasperated, and went towards the front door. "Please, Andy… get some help. I can help you find someone. We'll talk to Simon, get you some time off to-"

 

"I don't need help!" he screamed, lurching towards her angrily, "I need you to stop being such a fucking bitch and get off my case! Maybe if you were a better friend I wouldn't be like this! Maybe if you weren't such a fucking prick tease I wouldn't have to get drunk!"

"Stop it, Andy. You're drunk, and you're frightening me. Go to bed, we'll talk to Simon tomorrow."

She reached for the door, but not before Andy grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him. He crushed her mouth with his, trying to stuff his whiskey sour tongue into her mouth.

With a strength she didn't know she possessed, Aisling pushed Andy back against the opposite wall and followed it up with a swift slap across his face. "Don't ever, ever, touch me again" she hissed, and left.

_To hell with him._

* * *

 

Daryl sat in a booth at the diner – he'd chosen one at the back to give them a little privacy – and played with the menu in his hands, flexing it back and forwards. Aisling was late. He breathed a sigh of relief as the red Cherokee pulled into the parking lot and she got out, wearing shorts and a wife beater with her long hair tied back in a loose braid. She looked pale, even paler than usual, with dark circles under her eyes.

 

She spotted him quickly as she entered the diner, and closed the space between them as fast as she could, eager to be with him.

_I'm not going to cry… I'm not going to cry…._

 

The lump in Aisling's throat grew bigger with every step she took towards the man with the deep blue eyes that she'd been aching to see since Sunday. She didn't want to cry in front of Daryl. Aisling hated anyone seeing her crying for real.

 

He stood up, and was surprised when she threw her arms around him and sank into his chest. "I'm sorry, I know you don't do PDAs, but I need this" she murmured against his dirty work shirt, and as he put an arm around her he realized her shoulders were shaking.

"Hey, hey… c'mere" he pulled her down to sit beside him and tilted her chin up to look at her face. She was crying. "What's happened? Why ya cryin'?"

"I'm sorry..." she wiped her hands across her face, trying to stop her tears. "Don't need to apologise, Ash. Just tell me what's goin' on."

 

Ordinarily Daryl would have run a mile from a crying woman. They made him awkward and he never knew what to do, but this was Aisling's tear streaked face he was looking at, and he wanted to try to make her feel better.

Aisling was mortified that the tears had slipped out. Not just tears, either - big huge gulping sobs that made her gasp for air.

It wasn't just the horrible showdown with Andy last night that had her so upset, but that was the one thing she didn't think it would be helpful to tell Daryl about. He would get angry and probably try to confront Andy, and that wouldn't help the situation at all. No, she had to try to work with Andy as best as she could, and hopefully get him some help, and Daryl blazing in with fists flying would only make things even worse, for everybody.

She inhaled deeply, and breathed out slowly, looking up at the ceiling for a moment.

"Work's shit, my Mum has canceled on me, I'm tired…." she took another breath "It's all silly, I know, but it got to me and I just wanted… to see you."

 

They sat quietly for a while, with Daryl's arm around Aisling's shoulders, holding her tightly. The waitress arrived to take their order, but he waved her away to give Aisling another few minutes to gather herself.

"Ready to talk?"

She nodded, grabbed a handful of paper napkins from the dispenser on the table and blew her nose noisily, giggling apologetically as Daryl smiled at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Ok. Right. Sorry. I'm sorry… I didn't mean-"

"Told ya not to apologise." His voice was firm, so Aisling blew out another deep breath and composed her thoughts.

"You know I'm going to New York on Thursday?" Daryl nodded, silently "Well, the main reason for going was that my Mum is in town and I thought we could meet up. It's been, like, ten months since I saw her. Anyway, she's too busy to see me."

"Your Mom's too busy to see ya?"

"Yep. I mean, I know she's seeing friend's and all but… I thought she could have taken half an hour or so out to see me. But, she won't, and I'm upset even though this is totally her, and nothing unexpected, and it shouldn't upset me… but it still gets to me sometimes."

Daryl nodded, making a mental note to tell Aisling's Mom exactly what he thought of her should the opportunity ever arise. What kind of heartless bitch blew her kid off to go shopping or whatever, especially when that kid was in a foreign country and hadn't seen her at all this year?

"So, there's that, and there's work which is just too intense at the moment. I'm so exhausted… I just wish it was all over."

 

When her work was over, Aisling would be returning to England, but Daryl knew that wasn't what she meant. It didn't stop him thinking about it though.

"I'm just a big, hormonal mess, Daryl. I'm sorry to come in and just bleeeurghh this all over you." She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. "One of the perks of dating an actor, you know. We're all absolute head-cases."

She smiled as she felt Daryl's lips press softly against the top of her head. "Wouldn't have ya any other way, sweetheart" he murmured into her hair.

* * *

 

"So," Aisling asked when she'd finished her sandwich "are you going to tell me what it is that you've planned for next Friday?"

Daryl shook his head and smirked. "Naw."

"Oh, come on! Give me a clue, pleeease."

 

Even though her eyes were all puffy and her nose was red from crying, Daryl thought that she was the prettiest little thing ever. He thought for a moment "Okay, don't wear nothin' stupid."

"What do you define as stupid though? A ball gown? A clown costume? Feather plumes and nipple tassels"

Daryl caught her eye through his hair and smirked "Wouldn't mind the last one…"

"Okay, feather plumes and nipple tassels it is then."

_How'd I get so lucky? How in the hell did this girl decide she wanted me?_

 

He settled the check, and they walked out to her car. Holding her hands tightly in the privacy of the parked cars, his blue eyes stared into hers intently "You okay?"

"Yep. I'm sorry I unloaded on you..."

He stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out something pale and fluffy. "Unload on me anytime ya want. But if I'm not around… I made this for ya… s'upposed to bring ya good luck. Figured if I ain't around it might protect ya."

His outstretched palm held a small fluffy rabbit foot, with a leather thong tied around the end.

Tears started to pool in Aisling's eyes again as she took the furry offering from his hand. "You made this, for me?"

"Caught it last week. Been preparin' it."

 

You could keep your diamond earrings, your weekends in Italy, your five star restaurants. This fluffy little foot that Daryl had caught and prepared was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for her.

The tears spilled out again. Aisling tilted her head down, hoping that Daryl wouldn't see, but of course he saw. "Ya don't like it? That's ok, y'aint gotta-"

"I love it!" she sobbed, helplessly, big fat tears falling onto the little foot in her hand.

"Gotta weird fuckin' way of showin' it..." Daryl muttered, confused, wishing he'd never taken the stupid thing out of his pocket if it was going to upset her this much.

"No! These are happy tears now!" She smiled through her tears and Daryl couldn't help but smile as he pulled her into his arms and rested his chin on her head.

"Never gonna understand you, Ash" he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

"This," she wiggled the furry little foot in his face "is the nicest thing that anyone's done for me in a long time, and I'm sorry I'm not in a position to handle it with a little more decorum or dignity, but this is what you're lumbered with, sorry."

 

Aisling wasn't usually one for tears. She could count the number of times she'd cried on a boyfriend on one hand, and here she was blubbering all over Daryl's broad chest for the second time today, and she was mortified.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry" she breathed, wiping her face with her hand "I'm a mess. I'm sorry."

"How many times I gotta tell ya, y'aint gotta apologize," He chewed on his lower lip for a moment "I like ya. Only girl I ever said that to... 'spite you bein' all snotty and shit."

"I like you too" she looked up at him and smiled, those big green eyes all damp and full of emotion.

 

His hands were suddenly holding her face tightly, making her look into those intense blue eyes "You comin' here… best thing that ever happened."

He dipped his head and pressed his mouth against hers, encircling her in his strong arms. Goat Rock, Georgia, the world... they all disappeared, and the only thing that mattered was Aisling and Daryl.


	18. Chapter 18

On Friday night, at an album launch party in a rooftop bar in Williamsburg, Aisling caught up with people she hadn't seen in ages. She felt connected with her peers, in a way that the small filming community on Wild Geese hadn't offered, catching up on gossip and news.

"I thought I might see you here," a thick French accent interrupted her as she talked to a girl she had known from back in Dublin. Sébastien placed a hand on the small of her back, and smiled at her as she turned round to face him. "Seb! So good to see you!" she said, honestly, as he kissed first one cheek, then another, then the first cheek again. Their relationship may have failed, but Sébastien had been a big part of her life for two years and they had remained on relatively friendly terms.

"You look wonderful, Ash," he said, holding her at arms length to look at her "What is this I hear about you and some red collar person?" It took Aisling a moment or two to realize that Sebastian had mixed up redneck and blue collar.

"He's called Daryl. How did you hear about him?"

Sébastien smiled "You have been in Georgia, not in outer space… I hear things, you know?" He explained that he was seeing a girl who had a friend who knew Sarah. "Is she here?" Aisling asked, looking around for a girl who might fit Sébastien's girlfriend profile, and quickly spotted her hovering nearby; tall, blonde, barely legal.

"Are you happy with 'im? Does he treat you right?" Sébastien asked, staring at her intently.

"I am, yeah," Aisling felt herself blush slightly "He's lovely."

 

One of the photographers present approached and asked to take a picture of them together. Sébastien put his arm around her and stared at the camera, while Aisling tilted her body towards him slightly and gave a pouty little smirk that she often used when posing with friends. He dismissed the photographer with an arrogant wave of his hand. It was an action that had made Aisling cringe when they were together, and she still hated it now.

 

"This 'Daryl'... it is serious, yes?"

Aisling sighed, not sure what to say. "I'm leaving in a few weeks, so I guess it isn't that serious, no."

"But you want it to be?"

Sébastien had an uncanny knack of being able to read her mind, and his talent obviously hadn't diminished. She nodded, and shrugged "He knows I'm leaving."

"So, if this Daryl asked you to stay with him you would, yes?"

If Daryl asked Aisling to stay with him, she would want to shout 'YES!' from the rooftops, but she knew that the likelihood of him ever asking was remote. She also had to be realistic, and upping sticks to move to another country because someone she'd been seeing for a few weeks asked her to wasn't a sensible thing to do, no matter how attractive a proposition it was.

To Aisling's relief, some people they knew came over to talk to them, and the question could remain unanswered.

 

* * *

 

"I was reading on the plane about how I should be sympathetic, not critical, and I got everything wrong, Sam." Aisling sat in a cafe on Manhattan's lower east side on Saturday morning, recalling her encounter with Andy.

 

Sam and Aisling had been friends for almost seven years, ever since she had first moved to London. Mutual friends had introduced them and they had hit it off right away, Sam quickly growing to love the little Irish girl's sense of humor and caring nature. They had shared an apartment for three years before he moved to New York to pursue his career as a sculptor.

 

Aisling had felt increasingly guilty over how she had handled things with Andy, and had pored over information and advice online on how to deal with a friend or family member with addiction problems.

"Could you be any more 'Aisling' right now?" Sam asked, reaching out to hold her hand across the table. "He all but assaulted you, and you're trying to make him better? You need to take a step back, love. He needs professional help, and it's lovely that you want to help him but… despite what he said, it isn't your fault and he isn't your problem."

"But, he's stuck in Georgia and he doesn't have-"

Sam interrupted her "You know, and I know, that Andy's problems began long ago. It's a horrible, destructive thing that he needs to confront… and speaking of which, have you seen your Mum while you've been here?"

Aisling laughed, knowing exactly what Sam thought of her Mum. He'd met her on several occasions, and had been quick to let her know exactly what an awful person he thought she was.

"I haven't, you'll be pleased to hear. She's busy."

 

"The fragrant Caroline Huber-O'Brien is too busy to see her only daughter? You do surprise me, Aisling. What is she doing? Painting her toenails? Thinking about a lovely handbag? Staring out of the window?"

"Pretty much," Aisling smiled sadly, and checked her phone in vain to see if her Mum had a last minute change of plans.

Sam sighed, and reached across the table again to grip Aisling's hand tightly. "Remember, her failings as a mother are not…." he looked expectantly at her, and she completed in monotone the mantra he'd been repeating to her for years "… not a reflection on me or my worth as a person."

 

"Correct! Now, I have some wonderful news that will cheer you right up, and I've been simply dying to tell you, but I wanted to tell you in person..."

"Yes…?" Sam was nothing if not dramatic, and had he not been one of her best friends his fondness for melodrama would have irritated her.

"I'm putting together a show here, in November, and I want you to be in it."

He sat back and waited for Aisling's reaction.

"What kind of show…?"

"A show of talented marine mammals," he deadpanned, disappointed that his friend had been so clueless. "Jesus, Aisling, an exhibition! I want you to be part of my exhibition!"

 

Over the next hour and some omelets later, Sam told Aisling all about the gallery – a respected one that championed emerging artists, that he had grown a relationship with over the past few years – who had asked him to curate his first collaborative exhibition. He was excited to ask his friend to participate in this project.

Sam had always encouraged Aisling to pursue her love of photography. He repeatedly told her that she was talented, and refused to let her talk herself down. "You work in an industry where you are constantly judged and rejected, your childhood was pretty much the same, so I am not allowing you to do it to yourself," he would scold her when she doubted her own talents or abilities.

 

His excitement grew as she showed him a few pictures she thought might fit with the idea, and by the time they had finished Aisling was as excited as he was. Her first exhibition! She couldn't wait to tell Daryl.

"You aren't doing this just to cheer me up, are you Sam?" Aisling asked, "Because honestly, apart from the whole Andy thing I'm actually pretty happy right now."

"I'm going to pretend that you didn't ask me that, so I don't have to get annoyed and kick your arse. And… it leads nicely to the second thing I wanted to ask you about. This cowboy you're seeing. I want all the details."

"He's not a cowboy," Aisling mumbled through a mouth full of croissant "he's a mechanic."

"Oh… ok, I'll have to adjust that fantasy a bit in my head. So, what's the deal?"

 

As Aisling giggled and told Sam excitedly about the latest developments with Daryl, the man in question sat furious on his couch over nine hundred miles away.

 

* * *

 

_'Wild Geese beauty cosies up to French musician ex in New York'_

He stared again at the picture of Aisling and that French prick in the newspaper story on his phone. Daryl had been googling Aisling for more videos of her doing her show because he missed her something awful and wanted to see her. The news story had shown up at the top of his search and, even though the thought of what he might see made him feel sick, he'd clicked on it.

 

' _As Ellen O'Hanlon in BBC's rating's winner 'Wild Geese' she is no stranger to traveling back in time, but it seems that Aisling O'Brien is juggling past and present in real life, too._

_The actress turned back the clock by meeting up with ex-lover Sébastien Charron at Sheltering Sky in Brooklyn on Friday night, despite still reportedly dating a new boyfriend in Georgia where she is currently filming the latest series of the historical drama show which made her name._

_The pair, who split earlier this year after almost three years together, greeted each other warmly and were happy to pose together for photographs. Aisling, 25, showcased her enviable figure in a sheer black top and black bra underneath a denim jacket, paired with a hip-hugging black pencil skirt which highlighted her curves. The ensemble was completed with a pair of black peep-toe heels which showed off her long legs._

_The reunion comes amid reports of discontent on the set of the historical drama series, where fights and simmering tensions have blighted recording._ '

 

The report was peppered with pictures of Aisling and Sébastien together, at the party and in the past, including one of them kissing on a beach two years ago. Daryl's emotions made thinking difficult, so he went to self-preservation mode.

_Fuck her! Knew she'd fuckin' hurt me. Shoulda known it was too good to be damn true. Stupid bitch finally figured she was too fuckin' good for a worthless piece of shit like me._

 

* * *

 

"Yo, Daryl! You still comin' huntin'? C'mon, grab your bow, let's go!" Merle stood in the living room and called for his brother.

Daryl's phone lay in bits on the floor beneath the kitchen table. Pulling the table out and gathering the parts, Mere's first thought was that Daryl had been jumped in the house and he had somehow not heard it. Grabbing his gun from the counter he moved quietly to Daryl's bedroom, and threw open the door, not sure what he'd find.

Daryl sat on his bed, sharpening his knife. "What the fuck are you doin'?" he asked Merle, who stood in the doorway with a shotgun pointed at him. "What the fuck am  _I_  doin'? Thought you were dead, lil' brother! Why's your phone in bits out here?"

Merle put down the gun and ran his hand over his face, relieved that his brother wasn't either dead or bleeding like a stuck pig.

"Aisling was with that French asshole last night." he explained, quietly "got angry."

"What, she tell you that?" Merle was confused. He thought Aisling was pretty into his pansy-assed brother, and he couldn't picture her hooking up with her ex while she was making a go of things with Daryl. She didn't strike him as the type. He'd seen the little lovey-dovey looks she'd aim at him, and they were like nothing any girl had ever given him. That had to mean something, didn't it?

"Saw it on the internet. They were at some party together." Daryl continued sharpening his knife, while Merle tried to put together what had happened.

"So let me just process this… you've got your panties in a knot 'cause you read somethin' that said she was in the same place as her ex?"

Daryl nodded. "There were pictures of them."

"Pictures of them kissin'?"

"No… they were just standin' there. But he had his arm round her."

Merle grimaced. "I gotta see this for myself, 'fore I can say what's goin' on. C'mon."

"Ain't goin' nowhere, Merle. Leave me be."

Merle took a few steps forward to grab Daryl's arm and pull him off the bed. "I thought I had another few weeks left before you started fuckin' cryin' over her. We're gonna find out what's happened. Good Lord, can't a man get any damn peace round here?"

 

* * *

 

Merle used Shaun's computer with surprising speed and accuracy. Shaun leaned over his shoulder and read the news story with him while Daryl paced the room.

"So, let me get this straight lil' brother. This is what you're pissing your pants over? 'Cause she's stood next to some prick at a party?"

"It's her ex!" Daryl exclaimed from over by the couch, where he had deliberately positioned himself so he couldn't see the screen.

"And what do you want her to do if he turns up where she is, punch him?"

"Would be good" Daryl muttered, from the small space between the couch and the wall. He had looked at the pictures enough, and didn't want to see them again.

 

Shaun stood up and turned to Daryl, "As much as it pains me to agree with Merle on anything, that story doesn't say they're back together, just that they were at the same party." Merle ignored Shaun's slight, and carried on scrolling through the newspaper story "If there was any evidence of it, wouldn't the paper say so? It just says they were in the same place."

 

Corinne came into the room with Paige and Stevie, who quickly rushed to their Uncle Daryl's side, demanding attention. "What are you guys doing?" she asked Shaun, nodding her head towards Merle at the computer.

"Darylina's got it into his head that Aisling's been fuc-"

"Merle, my kids are here" Corinne interjected.

"Sorry kids," Merle continued, without looking round "He thinks Aisling's been doin' the ol' horizontal tango with her ex."

 

"Have you looked at her twitter?" Corinne asked, joining Shaun and Merle at the computer, leaving Daryl to entertain the two small children now begging to be lifted up by their favorite uncle.

"What the hell's a twitter?" Daryl asked, Paige and Stevie hanging off a bicep each.

"It's a social media thing. She told me about it, said I should sign up to it. Haven't got into it really though..." Corinne reached past Merle and Shaun and opened up her twitter account, and from there she brought up Aisling's profile.

 

Unable to help himself, Daryl walked over to the computer, two small children still suspended from his arms, and watched as Corinne clicked to see Aisling's recent messages. The little picture beside them showed her in her Victorian underwear, giving the middle finger to a duck.

 

The children soon bored of the lack of attention, and ran off, leaving Shaun, Corinne, Merle and Daryl to stare at the computer screen. There was a picture of an omelet, another of a New York subway station sign… nothing about Sébastien. "You seriously think she's been seeing this guy then?" Corinne asked, as she altered the search to show references to Aisling's name.

"Kinda did, yeah..." Daryl was starting to feel a bit stupid now. He had no evidence for his assumption, and when he thought rationally about the situation he knew that he had probably jumped to the wrong conclusion.

 

He knew that Aisling and Sébastien had parted on pretty friendly terms. He also knew that she thought he was a bit pretentious, from the little she'd told him about her ex.

"You ought to talk to her, Daryl," Corinne said as she straightened up from looking at the computer "before you go throwing away the best thing that's ever happened to you on the say-so of some gossip rag."

 

* * *

 

 

An hour later, Daryl wasn't anywhere near so angry. 

Worried, yes, but not angry. He marvelled at the change in himself since he'd met Aisling. He was able to rationalize this. He knew that he needed to stop expecting her to hurt him, or he would drive her away, and he didn't want to not be with her while she was still in Georgia.

He had another look at Twitter at home on his phone, after Corinne had put his phone back together and set the app up for him. He scrolled back, past the pictures of her breakfast and talk about being happy to be back in New York. Past the pictures of her lunch, past the pictures of her and some friends at the same party he'd seen her with Sébastien at.

 

There was a picture of his back, as he was cooking breakfast just over a week ago, with morning light shining in through the window. He was all shoulders and messy hair, and Aisling had simply captioned it 'happy'.

He blushed to himself. She'd taken a picture of him and told over 47,000 people she was happy? Over 27,000 people had liked it. A picture of his shitty old Falcons tshirt and bed hair?

Among the people saying things he didn't understand in broken English, and others asking her to follow them, someone had said "wow, fantastic shoulders" and Aisling had 'favorited' that one.

_Thank fuck she wasn't here. I'd have ruined everything jumpin' off the deep end like I did._

 

She would be filming in the hills to the North for the next few days, but Daryl was anxious to at least have Aisling back within State lines, and he was looking forward to their weekend together. He had everything prepared and arranged for the Friday at least, and hoped that she'd like what he had planned. Daryl didn't know how to make grand gestures, but he'd tried hard to plan a day for Aisling that she might enjoy, and he hoped that she'd like it.


	19. Chapter 19

Friday morning couldn't come quickly enough for Aisling and Daryl. Aisling had been in a vile mood all week at work, and was exhausted. The thought of spending the weekend with the man she'd so quickly fallen for was the only thing that kept her going. On the drive back from filming at Tallulah Gorge State Park on Thursday afternoon, Aisling had visibly unwound in the back seat of Heather's car. Sarah talked about her plans for the weekend, which involved Chuck and a lot of sex, apparently. "Best kind of stress relief there is" she grinned, stretching her arms out above her head.

 

"What about you, Heather? How are things going with Merle?"

Heather chuckled and shook her head "He's persistent, I'll give him that."

"Don't you like him?" Sarah asked, "I thought you two got on well."

"The day I hook up with Merle Dixon will be the day I want you to – and I'm going on record here, I mean it – slap me upside the head. He's quite the charmer, but c'mon… Merle?!"

Aisling felt a twinge of protectiveness for Daryl's brother "He's not so bad, Heather."

She would have listed a few of his attributes if she'd been able to think of any apart from 'sizable penis' and 'good with nicknames', but as she couldn't she settled for nodding reassuringly at Heather. It wasn't that she necessarily wanted her friend to get together with Merle, more that she didn't want people to rule Merle out as someone unworthy of affection or love. Maybe someone would think of Merle as worthy, one day?

 

"What about you and Daryl, Aisling? Plenty of sexy times on the cards?" Heather cocked an eyebrow at Aisling in the rear view mirror.

"God, I hope so," she groaned, and leaned her head back in the seat. This was officially the longest she had seen someone for before they'd had sex and the anticipation was killing her. Already knowing what Daryl's soft lips and rough, warm hands felt like on her body made her fantasize about him all the more, and she often found herself staring into space wearing, what Sarah called, her 'my boyfriend's so dreamy' face.

 

* * *

 

 

Daryl was nervous when he rang Aisling's doorbell on Friday morning, and bit on his thumb as he waited for her to answer. His stomach felt like it was full of butterflies as he paced back and forward a few times.

_What's fuckin' takin' her so long? Shit, I feel like a damn teenager._

 

"Sorry! I'm coming, I'm coming!" he heard her voice from inside the house before the door opened, and there she stood, pulling on a flat gold leather thong sandal as she hopped on one foot. "Couldn't find my other shoe" she smiled apologetically, then stepped out, held her arms out and turned slowly around for him to scrutinize what she was wearing.

 

"Stupid, or not stupid?"

 

She was wearing denim shorts that showed off those long, toned legs of hers, and a white strappy cotton t-shirt with a short little fringe around the lower hem that brushed against the band of bare midriff Daryl could see peeking out. He nodded as he bit his lip, his throat thick "S'fine. Now c'mon, ain't got all day."

 

Aisling smiled at his gruffness and followed him to the truck. Daryl's economy with words and the difficulty he sometimes had with expressing his feelings was something that would have irritated her with anyone else. But it was Daryl, and she knew that while words didn't always come easily to him, it made the moments when they did all the sweeter.

 

His hand reached out and grabbed her arm as she went to open the passenger side door, and he took a few steps forward until his nose was touching hers. His blue eyes searched her face for a second, before he leaned in and clumsily pressed his lips to hers. He held them there a moment, breathing in the smell of her, before he pulled back again and gave her a small nod of the head as his mouth twitched up in a tiny smile. Aisling nodded back, and squeezed his hand.

 

* * *

 

 

After driving for ten or fifteen minutes, Daryl steered his truck off the road onto a small track which wound through some woods. The sunlight filtered through the trees "It's so pretty here..." Aisling's quiet voice mused as she looked around at the light-dappled trees as they passed by.

 

Daryl glanced across at her as the trees thinned to reveal a small white boat with a blue canopy up ahead, moored to a wooden dock by the river.

"Oh, wow… have you… is that...?"

"It's Shaun's brother's. Borrowing it for the day… that ok?" He bit his lip nervously. "You've been workin' hard... all stressed out an' stuff. Figured a day of just lazin' might be good."

"Daryl, it's perfect," Aisling leaned in and kissed him softly "Thank you." Her praise, and her touch, caused a deep flush to spread up his cheeks and he dipped his head slightly to look back at her through the hair which fell over his eyes. "Know it ain't no fancy restaurant or nothin'-" Aisling's fingertips slid over his lips and pressed gently to stop him from speaking.

"I said, it's perfect."

 

* * *

 

 

The small engine gently put-put-putted them along the river as they sat side by side on the little bench seat behind the wheel. The canopy sheltered them from the hot Georgia sun, and Aisling laid her head on Daryl's broad shoulder as he pointed out different birds or animals on the land. Occasionally he would dip his head to press a kiss to the top of her head, or lean his head down to rest it against hers.

 

They were alone in the world, with not a single other person to be seen along the way.

 

"So, I have some news..." she smiled up at him "from New York."

"Yeah?" Daryl's mind raced, and his eyes gave away the mild panic that swept over him.

"It's good news," she laid a hand on his arm reassuringly. "I'm going to be showing some pictures in an exhibition in November!" Her eyes were huge, so excited and happy.

Daryl pulled her to him in the best hug he could manage with one hand still on the boat's wheel. "Aw hell, yeah that's good news!" he said with a smile, before he kissed her quickly and returned his eyes to the river. "So there's gonna be Dixon dick in some fancy New York art gallery after all, huh?"

"Sure is!" she smiled "My friend – the one who is curating the exhibition – loved the photos from that day so much… so, hooray for your brother's knob!"

Daryl snorted "Can't wait ta tell Merle his junk's gonna be famous."

 

 _November, huh?_  Did that mean that Aisling would stay until winter? Or would she leave, and return for the exhibition? It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her, but he knew that if her answer was the latter he would be miserable for the rest of the day, and he wanted to enjoy the time they had together. Burying his head in the sand would have to do, for now.

 

* * *

 

 

A little while later, Daryl's tummy began to growl. "Hungry?"

He had gone out during the week and chosen an ideal spot to stop, where the river curved around and a small inlet led to a sheltered, shady river bank where they could sit. The boat bumped slightly as he steered it up onto the bank slightly, and Aisling watched as he pulled off his boots and socks, wondering how he could bear to wear them in this heat. Daryl hopped over the side, and pulled the boat further up onto the bank before he tied it off securely to the trunk of a tree.

 

Following as gracefully as she could, which wasn't very gracefully at all, Aisling paddled through the cool water and threw her sandals and bag up onto the grass.

"Have you brought lunch?" she asked incredulously, watching as he hefted a large cooler box from behind the seat of the boat and carried it up onto the bank.

"What did ya think was in this thing? What did ya think we were gonna eat?" he scoffed, kneeling beside the cooler as he opened it. Aisling dropped to her knees beside him "I thought maybe that was some kind of fishing thing… I don't know. I'm not 'outdoors-ey'."

"Think I'd take ya out for the day an' make ya catch your own damn food?" Daryl rolled his eyes playfully at her and bumped her shoulder with his.

 

Inside the cooler Daryl had packed cold chicken, apples, potato chips, sweet iced tea, and four little individual peach pies that Corinne had insisted on making for them when she'd heard his plans for the day.

"This alrigh'?" he asked, sitting down beside her on the blanket he'd laid out.

"Are you kidding me? Brace yourself, Daryl, because you're about to see me go 'Full Pig'."

 

 

As they ate, sitting with their bare feet stretched out in front of them, Aisling asked Daryl how he'd come to know the countryside so well. He told her about getting lost in the woods for nine days when he was a little kid, eating berries and wiping his ass with poison oak.

"That's a long time… How come nobody found you?"

"Nobody noticed I was gone," he shrugged. He had paid attention when out hunting with Merle, his Dad and his uncle after that, and had learned to track. Eventually he felt more comfortable in the woods than he did at home.

"Home was that bad?" she asked, gently. He looked at her for a moment, chewing his lip, and she could see he was debating whether or not to talk about it. In the end though, he just nodded and lay back with his hands folded behind his head. Aisling lay down beside him, her pose mimicking his, and they watched the blue sky above them, neither of them speaking.

 

After a little while, Aisling stood up and went to the waters edge. Daryl watched her, curious, as she splashed her feet in the water a little before she announced "I'm going for a swim."

"You brought a swimsuit?" he asked as she unzipped her shorts.

 

"Nope," she wiggled out of the shorts and kicked them over towards him, then peeled off her white t-shirt, unclipped her bra and threw them over to the blanket as well. "Got a problem with that, Dixon?" Aisling smiled over her shoulder at him and winked. He shook his head mutely, and watched her ass in her little white panties as she walked out into the water.

She sank down underneath the water for a moment, before she popped back up with a small splash and pushed her hair from her face. The sunlight caught the drops of water on the pale skin of her shoulders and arms, making them sparkle. "Want to join me?" she called over.

 

Daryl thought for a moment, biting at the skin on his thumb as he watched her glide effortlessly through the cool water.

It was quiet here in this place, and he'd never seen anyone else there. Nobody would see him but Aisling, and Daryl knew that in order to be closer to her he'd have to drop some of his defenses. He stood up, unbuckled his belt, and took his gray pants off. Then, swallowing hard, he reached back to the neck of his t-shirt and pulled it up over his head and began to walk into the water to join Aisling.

 

She watched him wade out towards her, the water creeping up his legs until it was over the waistband of his pale blue boxers. A smattering of hair was scattered across his broad chest, and above his left nipple, across his heart, the name 'Norman' was tattooed in a dark, elaborate font. He kept moving, until he was right in front of her, and then he took her hands and placed them around his shoulders. Daryl waited for her fingers to smooth across his skin, and he tensed slightly as he felt them run across the hard cords of scar tissue. He cupped her face in his hands and whispered "I'll talk about it, but not today, 'kay?"

Aisling nodded, and he smiled before he suddenly dived down underneath the water, kicking his feet up with a splash. She felt his strong hands grab her knees as he swam between her legs and came up for air behind her, then dunked her head down into the river. "You shit!" she spluttered as she emerged again, wiping her eyes.

"Don't wanna play?" he teased, flicking more water in her face.

"Ooh, you're in for it now mister" Aisling squealed and dived under the water, where she tried to pull Daryl's feet from under him.

 

They splashed and laughed, having more fun in the water than Daryl ever remembered having before, even when he was a kid and he would hold his breath and hide under the water until Merle was convinced he had drowned. His brother would dive down to search the riverbed for him while Daryl would emerge quietly upstream and watch, covering his mouth with his hand so that his giggles wouldn't give him away. That used to make him laugh so much, but this was even better. Aisling's squeals, and the way she tried to tackle him and get him back for his splashes and dunks, but eventually gave up because she was laughing too hard, made him even happier.

 

He slipped his hands around her waist and stared at her, his face suddenly serious. When he looked at her his heart felt full to bursting, and it felt like nothing - not time, not other people, not even the earth he stood on - existed at all. It confused him, and frightened him a little. He felt weak, vulnerable, but at the same time strong enough to do anything.

_Don't know what the fuck this is. Is this what love feels like?_

 

He lowered his head to hers and kissed her wet lips, as softly and tenderly as he could. Aisling gasped as he scooped her up, one arm under her back, the other under her knees, and carried her out of the water. Daryl laid her glistening body down on the blanket and lay down beside her, raising himself up on one elbow to look at her. His fingers traced a line from her tummy, up across her breast, to her lips.

"So fuckin' beautiful..." he whispered, pulling her lower lip gently with his thumb.

 

Soft kisses peppered the sleek skin of her shoulder, across her collarbone to her throat. Aisling curled her hand into the soft hair at the nape of Daryl's neck and breathed out a quiet moan of pleasure as his hand closed over her breast, squeezing gently. Then, his mouth was on hers and soft, wet tongues slipped alongside each others, tangling, swirling.

 

The trees filtered sunlight onto the two bodies entwined below, flickering light and shadow across their skin, still wet from the river. In the warmth of the hot Georgia afternoon their fingers and mouths explored each other, carefully. Nothing was rushed, nothing was frantic. Everything was languid, warm and dreamy.

 

Daryl groaned, deep in his throat, as Aisling's hand slid along the hard bulge in his shorts before her fingers moved back to his waistband and teased the skin there. Then, he felt her fingernails dip below the fabric, scraping lightly as they inched their way down, delicately, through the warm pillowy hair that led to his erection. He sucked in his breath as he felt her hand slide smoothly along the length of him.

"Christ… " he mumbled against her breast. He slipped his hand down the soft skin of her belly, across the damp fabric of her panties, and cupped between her legs. She was hot there. His name slipped from her lips in a tiny sigh, and she ran her thumb across the soft, velvety head of of his thick penis in response to the pressure of his hand against her.

 

Daryl should probably have been nervous, but any nerves were nudged aside by a desire to please her. "Ain't never done this before..." his breath was hot against her nipple "show me what ya like, Ash."

Aisling took Daryl's large hand in her small one and guided it into her panties, past the small triangle of hair on her mound to the silky smooth skin below. She helped his hand to stroke slowly along outside her, once… twice…. three times, before she encouraged his middle finger to press between her slick folds, and showed him how to move around the little nub of flesh at the top of her slit. Her back arched and she whimpered with pleasure as Daryl took control, moving the pad of his finger in slow circles around her clit.

"I'm doin' this right, sweeheart?"

Aisling bit her bottom lip and nodded, her green eyes meeting his blue ones. He held her gaze as he let his index finger join the other, sliding softly across the little bundle of nerves on it's way, and increased the pressure. She gasped, and the tightness of her grip on him increased slightly as she pulled him free from his shorts so that he sprang out against their stomachs. Her hand moved faster which caused him to grunt loudly into her shoulder.

 

As the pleasure built inside him, and he felt a warmth tugging within him, Aisling's responses to his fingers increased in intensity. Her head dipped back against the blanket and her lips parted, allowing his name to slip out in a whimper as he lowered his head to her breast and flicked his tongue across her nipple before sucking it into his mouth, his mouth watering around the firm peak.

 

"Oh, God… " she breathed, as her back arched up. Daryl slowly pushed his middle finger inside her. She was so warm, so wet… so tight. He added another finger and slid them in and out, slowly and deliberately. He noticed that curling his fingers slightly in a 'come hither' motion made her hips buck up even higher, so he tried to focus on doing that while moving his thumb around the little knot of nerves above. Aisling pulled her hand along him faster, drawing heat from his body up through him until he knew that he wasn't going to last much longer.

 

"Fuck.. Ash... gonna come..." he panted against her breast, and as he did her hot, wet walls tightened around his fingers in pulses. "Oh! Daryl… ohhh!" she exclaimed as her body tensed and she rode his fingers hard, her breath coming in small pants. Then, her body melted beneath him, rendering her helpless as she shuddered and throbbed against his fingers. The sight of her coming undone around his fingers sent Daryl over the edge into an abyss of pleasure, and he looked down to see arcs of his semen land on the smooth white skin of her stomach. Jerking his hips uncontrollably into her hand, he buried his face in the soft skin of her neck and sucked tiny kisses there as he struggled to get his breath back.

 

Aisling smoothed the hair from Daryl's face, and placed light little kisses on his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks. "I want ya so much..." he lowered his head to her breast again, his new favorite place in the world, and kissed the soft, white flesh there "… not here though." he mumbled against her skin. He wanted to pull down those white panties and bury his face between her legs, see what she looked like… tasted like… slide his cock between her wet thighs, but not here by the river where they'd have to eventually get up, get dressed, and leave. Daryl wanted his first time with Aisling to be endless.

Her lips slid down to his temple and whispered "We have the whole weekend."

 

* * *

 

 

That afternoon, as they lay together on the riverbank, sharing kisses and whispered stories, Aisling and Daryl fell in love. They'd both wondered if maybe… possibly… could this be love? But, this was it. The real deal. Undeniable. Love.

Neither admitted it to the other. Instead, they embraced the uncontrollable bubbling warmth deep inside them like a secret, for now.

 

Later, as the sun began to fall in the sky, Daryl steered the boat back to the dock with Aisling at his side. "Ya liked today?"

"I loved today. It was perfect… thank you."

"Y'know, when ya were in New York I saw a picture of you with your ex in a newspaper an' it freaked me out a bit," he searched her face for a reaction.

"Really? Did you google me?"

Daryl nodded "Was bored, missed ya… an' when I saw it I didn't know what to think, y'know? Didn't know what  _we_  were."

Aisling smiled at him, "What do you think we are?"

A blush rose up Daryl's cheeks. He was nervous now, and didn't know what to say. "Y'aint just some fuck." Aisling laughed, and made Daryl blush all the more furiously.

"Stop," he squinted at her and the edge of his mouth twitched up in a little embarrassed smile.

"What I mean is… I think you're my girl." He punctuated his statement with a little nod, and waited to see what Aisling would say. She stretched her neck up and kissed him softly on the cheek "I'm glad that I'm your girl, Daryl Dixon." Daryl had never felt happier in his life.


	20. Chapter 20

Daryl and Aisling were unpacking all the food they'd picked up from the BBQ shack on their way back to her house when his phone rang. "It's Shaun. Guess there must be a problem at work," he put the phone to his ear "Yeah, what's up?" he answered, gruffly.

 

He was quiet a while, listening to Shaun on the other end, then he said "'kay, thanks for tellin' me. I'll ask her."

 

"Everything ok?" Aisling asked, popping a french fry into her mouth as she opened the containers of pulled pork, ribs, fries and applesauce.

Daryl was frowning, and chewing on his lip as he came back over and stood beside her, deep in thought. "Dunno… some guy came in askin' 'bout me 'an you at work today. Said he was a reporter. Left his card with Shaun. Was askin' 'bout Andy too."

"Oh, bollocks." Aisling's shoulders fell, and she reached for Daryl's hands. "I'm sorry Daryl. You never signed up for this."

 

"No need to be sorry, ya ain't done nothin'. It ain't all though. Shaun an' Chuck followed him a bit an' saw him meet Cassie in the Tavern," Daryl's mind went back to the hazy night that he'd punched the guy who tried to kiss her, and Cassie's threat "'an she ain't your biggest fan."

 

They took the food out onto the porch and as they ate Daryl told her about what had happened that night after she'd left with Sarah.

Aisling put the rib she'd been sucking on down on her plate and faced Daryl "Cassie's that blonde girl, yeah?" Daryl nodded in reply.

"Look, I'm not being nosy, honestly, but… did you and her ever get together? I'd just like to know in case they spring something on me. Forewarned is forearmed, and all that."

Daryl shook his head "Never. Told ya', two girls before ya' an' I ain't even sure what their names were. Ain't proud of it, but it's the truth."

Aisling was confused. What information could Cassie give to a reporter about her, Daryl or Andy? She nibbled on another rib as she tried to remember any occasion where she'd seen the girl apart from those nights at the Goat Tavern, or if she'd ever seen her anywhere near Andy. At the plantation, maybe? She drew a blank.

 

"Must be a slow news week," she shrugged. "What was it you told Shaun you'd ask me about?"

Daryl licked his fingers clean of pulled pork and pushed his plate away, his stomach pleasantly full. "Wanted to know if you 'an me wanna go round their place for dinner tomorrow night? Chuck 'an Sarah too."

"A dinner party?" Aisling asked, with one eyebrow raised. She had to fight hard to suppress a giggle at the mental image of Daryl in a sports jacket, making polite conversation about house values and taxes.

"Corinne's all excited 'bout me an' Chuck havin' girls, 'an us all hangin' out an' shit," he grumbled.

"It was kind of her to invite us, especially after she just made those amazing pies for us." Aisling bit her lower lip, deep in thought for a moment, then went into the kitchen to hunt down the remaining pie.

 

"Ya wanna go then?" Daryl called in to her, putting out his cigarette. He'd calculated it in the shower this morning, and if he was right there were just over twenty days until Aisling left Goat Rock.

 _We got so little time left. Wanna spend it with her… don't wanna share her with everyone_.

"Sure, why not," she called back, her voice muffled slightly by a mouthful of sweet, sticky peaches and rich, buttery pastry "might be fun?"

 

Daryl followed her inside and stood at the kitchen counter beside her, smirking at the little guilty smile on her face and the crumbs on her lips. Her fingers held the last part of the pie up to his mouth, which he opened obligingly for her to pop the sweet treat inside.

As he chewed, he slowly wiped his thumb across her lips. "Crumbs," he explained, his voice low and quiet.

"You too," Aisling whispered, but instead of using her fingers she stretched up and gently licked his lips "can't let any of that good stuff go to waste."

Her tongue sent tingling shocks through Daryl's body, and he wasted no time in cupping Aisling's face in his hands, covering her mouth with his. His kiss was deep and slow, his tongue quickly slipping into her mouth to tangle with hers. Aisling had been on the receiving end of many amazing kisses over the years, and while Daryl's kisses may have lacked some of the finesse of his predecessors, they were easily the best, most knee-trembling kisses she'd ever had.

 

* * *

 

 

Daryl dropped Aisling clumsily onto her bed, causing a surprised squeak to escape her lips as she bounced, her full breasts jiggling with the motion. They'd lost most of their clothes in the fervid tangle of hands and mouths downstairs, which continued from the kitchen, through the living room and up the stairs.

 

Aisling had giggled as Daryl, frustrated by her bra clasp, pulled the offending garment ungracefully up over her head on the way through the living room, catching her nose and ear in the straps. His attempts to rid her of her shorts had similarly almost ended in disaster when he tried to tug them away while one leg was still wrapped around her ankle and she'd had to grab onto the stair rail to stop herself from falling. Daryl had leaned his head against her shoulder and took a deep breath before he rasped "Shit, I'm sorry. I gotta slow down or I'll kill ya 'fore I get ya upstairs."

 

He climbed on top of her on the bed, covering her body in warm, wet kisses as he went. Eagerly, his hand sought the warmth between her legs, sliding underneath her panties to touch her how she'd shown him earlier, as they'd lain on the riverbank. She was already wet, and as his fingers slipped along her lips and dipped into her, the urge to pull down her underwear and bury his face in that warm, wet place returned with a vengeance.

_Can't be that different to what I did to her with my fingers. Watched enough damn porn in my life to figure this out…_

 

Daryl chewed at his lips for a second or two before he quickly scooted down to kneel at the foot of the bed.

A small whimper escaped Aisling's lips as Daryl's fingers left her pussy, instantly aching for his touch again. "Daryl, where are you going… OOH!"

His strong hands slid underneath her knees and pulled her, more roughly than he'd intended, to the edge of the bed. Leaning down over her, his lips sucked a line of soft kisses across her belly, and down to the edge of the cotton blocking him from where he wanted to be. Taking the fabric in his fingers, he tugged at her panties as gently as he could, easing them down over her thighs and calves before he pulled her small feet free from the superfluous clothing and let it drop to the floor.

Aisling bit her lip as she lay there, exposed to his gaze. His eyes drank the sight of her in, his heart pounding so hard he thought she must be able to hear it through his chest.

A small triangle of tightly trimmed dark hair sat neatly above her smooth, glistening pussy. He lifted first her left leg, then her right, to rest on his broad shoulders, reached out his hand, and stroked the rough tips of his fingers along her lips. Then, with a low growl, Daryl ducked his head down and buried his face between her legs, inhaling her scent… clear river water and fruit, faint musk and spice.

_Fuck… gotta taste her._

Holding her thighs tightly he pulled his tongue flat along her slit before he parted her lips with the soft tip of his tongue.

"Fuck, ya taste so good" he moaned, low and throaty, and the vibrations sent shock waves through Aisling's body. She threaded her fingers through his thick dark hair and pulled his head closer, grinding against his mouth and tongue. The delicate pink tip of her tongue slipped out to lick her full lips and made a small mewling sound. Together with the way her hips bucked her pussy up into his face, Daryl was reassured that he was doing something right.

 

Aisling's delicious juices flowed like honey against his tongue as he lapped and flicked at her engorged nub, and her breathing became heavier, interspersed with tiny moans and gasps that increased in intensity until her body went rigid, and she came against his mouth. "Oh, Jesus… Daryl!" she cried out, her voice breathy and hoarse.

 

Her hands tightened in his hair and she gently tugged at him to come back up to her, full of a desperate need to kiss him again. Aisling tasted herself on his tongue as it pushed past her lips to embrace hers.

Daryl's dick was uncomfortably hard now, and as he palmed it to try to ease the throbbing Aisling grabbed his hand and held it at his side. "Let me..." she whispered against the hot skin of his neck where her tongue began to lick a slow trail down his body, sucking little kisses like stepping-stones along the way. Slowly, she pulled his shorts down and his cock sprang free, slapping soundly against his stomach. Taking a moment to admire it now that she could see it properly for the first time, Aisling wrapped her fingers around his girth.

_Fuck me, what a gorgeous dick._

He was thick, not overly long, but just right, warm and hard as a rock. Daryl gasped as she bent her head and traced her pink tongue gently along his length. Before Aisling, nobody had ever properly touched his dick before, never mind licked it. He stretched his neck up so that he could watch the fantasy he'd had about her since they met be realized, as she sucked on his velvety head with her lips, moving slowly, using her tongue to tease him.

Pulling her hair back from her face for a better look, his eyes met hers as more and more of his length disappeared between her wet lips. The groan she extracted from him made Aisling's body tingle. She worked her wrist up and down, stroking him as she sucked him. The feel of the warmth of her persistent tongue, the soft sounds of her sucking made Daryl feel as though he was swimming in treacle. "Gonna..." he gasped as heat coursed through his body "gonna come, Ash." Aisling moaned softly in approval, and the vibrations on his dick coupled with her eyes on his as she smiled around him sent every nerve ending in his body into overdrive. He exploded into her mouth, his hips jerking spasmodically with the release, as her tongue slowed, gently easing him down from his climax.

 

"Ash, c'mere," he panted as he reached for her hands and pulled her up to lie beside him. The lazy smile on his face as he tried to regain his breathing was so cute to Aisling, and she reached out to push his hair, damp from sweat, away from his beautiful blue eyes. He pulled her naked body to him and kissed her, quite sloppily and noisily as his body was still recovering, but with with a bruising earnestness.

Daryl was hard again within minutes, with Aisling squirming underneath his fingers. Releasing her nipple from his mouth with a loud slurp, he realized that he was completely unprepared to take things further. He heard Merle's voice in his head:

_Why the hell didn't ya_ _go to the damned drugstore, baby brother? S'posed to be a man, Darylina!_

"What's wrong?" Aisling whispered against his shoulder, her lips brushing his hot skin.

"Ain't got nothin' with me," he groaned "I ain't no good at this."

"Shh... I have an implant. It's fine. We're good," she soothed and stroked his hair back from his face to smile at him.

"Ya won't get pregnant?"

"No," she sucked his lower lip between hers "I won't. Please... Daryl."

It was the hottest sound in the world, her whimpered plea to him. Daryl moved quickly, pulling her beneath him so that he lay between her legs. "Want ya so bad, sweetheart." He slid himself along her hot, wet folds, brushing his tip against her warm lips, before pushing past them, into her warm, soft, wet, pussy.

 

With slow thrusts he pushed deeply between her pale legs. His breath was rough, and ragged, his face redder than Aisling had ever seen it. The tendons in his neck were taut and strained, and his biceps bulged as he held himself above this amazing girl, that he never wanted to be apart from again.

They were both burning up, hot to the touch. Daryl grabbed Aisling's thighs, grinding every inch of himself deep within her. He found himself saying things he'd never said before, moaning her name, in a low throaty growl. On both his sexual encounters he'd been completely silent, he remembered that much, so his own voice surprised him "You like that, huh, sweetheart?" Aisling nodded, biting her lower lip hard and whimpered an affirmation.

His name escaped her lips again. It turned Daryl on even more to hear how much pleasure he was giving her, and to see the desire on her face as he thrust into her with greater urgency. Daryl was like a piston, driving Aisling higher, and higher, and harder, and faster. She lost herself in the rhythm and felt him start to lose control at the same time the rising pleasure began to overtake her.

Her warm wetness drenched him, and as he erupted, pulsing into her, a desperate growl escaped his throat.

 

 

Later, quiet kisses and whispers punctuated the air in Aisling's bedroom. "You know, I never would have thought you were a cuddler, Daryl."

He snorted, quietly, watching her fingers trace idly around his nipple as he held her tightly to him. "Never was, 'til I met ya'."

 

When his breathing evened out and he slipped into a heavy sleep, Aisling watched him for a while. He looked younger asleep, his forehead smoother without the furrows of a scowl troubling it.

_How am I ever going to leave him? I love him._

She laid her head on his chest and tried to think of a solution… some scenario which would allow her to stay here, but before she could come up with anything the steady rhythm of Daryl's heartbeat lulled her to sleep in his arms.


	21. Chapter 21

The pinks and lilacs of a Georgia sunrise came creeping slowly into the calm of the dark bedroom on Saturday morning. Aisling smiled to herself when she woke wrapped up in Daryl's strong arms, the heat from his body enveloping her. His breath was warm against her neck as their heads lay together, sharing a pillow. The scruff on his chin scratched her shoulder lightly as he shifted slightly in his sleep, gripping her tighter, rubbing his lips across her skin.

She nestled against him, luxuriating in his warmth, feeling safe, content and happy in his protective grip. The memory of last night caused a blush of pleasure to tinge her cheeks, and she pulled his arms around her even closer, kissing his bicep as she did so.

 

The sleepy grunt that vibrated against the nape of her neck signaled that Daryl was stirring. His hand sought the warm softness of her breast, and squeezed gently, his thumb softly rubbing her nipple to attention.

"Mornin', sweetheart," his voice was low, graveled and thick with sleep and years of cigarettes "ya sleep okay?"

"Mmmm" she smiled, stretching her lithe body along his. "I think you wore me out last night."

Daryl's low chuckle against her neck was followed by a soft kiss and the gentle nip of his teeth on the creamy skin there. He smoothed her sleep and sex tousled hair away to allow his lips to continue their slow meanderings. Waking up with her naked body in his arms, he had briefly thought that he was still dreaming. When his fingers registered her skin beneath them, the warmth of her ass pressed into his groin, one of her silky smooth legs entwined around his… he pressed his face into her hair and smiled. This wasn't a dream. This was gloriously, wonderfully real.

 

"I have to go pee, Daryl," Aisling whispered, trying to gently free herself from his arms to go to the bathroom. "Nuh-uhh," his grip on her body tightened, as his nose buried into the skin where her neck met her shoulder, inhaling her scent deeply.

"Please," she giggled, "I  _really_  need to go. I'll be right back." Her lips kissed the heart tattoo on his hand when he begrudgingly released her breast, and she hopped up off the bed leaving Daryl to grumble into the pillow.

The sheet where she had lain was warm beneath his fingers as he ran his hand across the space she had occupied a few seconds earlier. He scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, then stretched out lazily and rested back with his hands behind his head. "Can't ya piss any quicker?" he called out towards the bathroom door that linked to the bedroom. Aisling quickly finished freshening up between her legs. "Shut up!" her voice was muffled by the sound of the tap running, and he heard the jingle of the towel rail against the tile wall as she dried her hands.

 

Daryl looked up towards the door as it opened, and swallowed hard at the sight that met his eyes.

"Like whatcha see, sweetheart?" Aisling mimicked his accent as she posed naked in the doorway, her left arm stretched high above her body against the door frame, her right hand resting on the curve of her hip. His eyes roamed her body hungrily, before settling on her full, round alabaster-white breasts, which sloped gently upwards, capped with those delicious pink nipples which he knew he would never get enough of.

_Could spend all day lookin' at those titties._

"Most beautiful thing I ever saw in my life," Daryl's voice was quiet and low. He held out his hand to her and pulled her, more forcefully than he meant to, back into bed.

 

A tiny, delighted giggle slipped from Aisling's lips as Daryl manhandled her to sit astride his slim hips, and held her face in his large, rough hands so that he could pull her down to kiss her. She loved when he took control, lifting and pulling her body effortlessly to where he needed it to be.

 

When he had finished plundering her mouth with his tongue, his lips moved down her throat, to place open mouthed kisses on her collarbones before he cupped her breasts in his hands and began greedily feasting on the puckered flesh of one hard nipple, then the other.

Aisling's nipples had always been particularly sensitive, but nobody had ever lavished quite so much dedicated attention on them as Daryl.  _He's definitely a boob man_. She arched her back as his tongue flicked across her stiff peaks, and released a quiet moan of pleasure.

 

Unable to deny his aching cock any longer, Daryl put one arm around her shoulders, holding her in place. The other hand grabbed a handful of the soft flesh of her perfect, milky-white ass, and held her steady, while he angled himself at her entrance. He groaned as she slid down the length of him, enveloping him.

_So fuckin' hot, so damn tight._

 

Her breasts bounced as she moved above him, hypnotizing him. His lips were parted as he panted loudly, his face and torso damp with a thin layer of sweat. Aisling reached out to push his hair from his face, then leaned down to reconnect her mouth with his. In this position, his thick cock hit against the right places and it wasn't long before Aisling felt a rising pleasure begin to soar through her body. Daryl's hips bucked up into her, his own orgasm approaching rapidly.

"Fuck… Ya feel so good, Ash" His breath was hot against her swollen lips as he grunted his pleasure into their kiss.

"Oh, Daryl… fuuuck, Daryl..." Aisling whimpered. She clasped his head in her hands, gripping his hair, holding his face to hers. That was it. Daryl was gone. His hips jerked with a desperate, ragged motion as together they thrust, ground and bucked their way through the climactic wave of pleasure which swept over them.

"Good lord!" Daryl gasped as he buried his face into Aisling's neck, pulling her body flush with his, wrapping his arms tightly around her as though he could pull her into his chest, and make her part of him. His dick was still twitching inside her, milked by the pulses of her walls as they contracted around him. Curling the fingers of one hand in her hair he pulled her head to his and kissed hot, quick, breathless kisses to her eyelids, her nose, her forehead, cheeks, mouth… anywhere he could get his lips in contact with her face.

_Wouldn't believe how much I love ya, Ash._

The warm, full sensation in his chest that grew every time he looked at her, and made those words bubble up in his throat until he pushed them down again.

 

* * *

 

 

Later, as Daryl lay on his side preoccupied by the difference between the dark pink, swollen nipple he had been sucking on, and it's comparatively unattended neighbor, Aisling's stomach growled loudly.

"Sorry," she groaned, twisting the dark strands of his hair between her fingers, "my inner pig has awoken."

"S'ok, he mumbled around her other nipple, trying to even them up, "I'm hungry too."

 

Reluctantly, he let the fleshy peak slip from his mouth with a wet, sucking sound, and pulled himself up to sit on the bed, looking around for his underwear. His boxer shorts were underneath the chair at the side of the room, where Aisling had tossed them the night before, so he got up and went to retrieve them.

Aisling took the opportunity to enjoy the sight of his tight, white butt as he pulled them on, and grinned as he turned and caught her looking at him.

"Yeah, I'm perving. How can I not look at that gorgeous ass," she giggled, and Daryl blushed.

"Stop." He wasn't entirely comfortable with Aisling's compliments about his body, but he did appreciate them. Still caught between a lifetime of shame, and a newly found pride in her approval, it was difficult for Daryl to marry the two at times.

"Don't think mine's the gorgeous ass here." Leaning over, his hand slapped one of her buttocks lightly, causing her to gasp and laugh at the same time.

This beautiful woman, lying naked on the bed before him, thought  _he_  had a gorgeous ass?

He bit on the skin by his thumbnail as he watched her stretch her long legs off the bed and stand up. She pulled a large white t-shirt from a drawer and pulled it over her head, then put her hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him towards the bedroom door. "Come on, Mr Sexy Bum, let's go make some breakfast."

 

* * *

 

"I'm a terrible hostess," Aisling grumbled from the fridge.

"Huh?" Daryl stood beside her at the fridge and peered inside, trying to see what was annoying her so much "Whatcha mean?"

"I have no food in at all. You arranged such a lovely day for us yesterday, and I can't even get organized enough to have something in for breakfast." Daryl snorted at the unhappy little pout on her lips and bumped his hip against hers, "Yeah, fuckin' awful hostess. Gonna leave right now."

Aisling stuck out her lower lip, and Daryl laughed. She loved the sound, and wished he'd do it more.

"You make the coffee, and I'll see what I can find." Daryl nodded and padded across the kitchen on his bare feet to set up the coffee machine while Aisling opened cupboards, searching for something they could eat. She had meant to go grocery shopping on Friday morning before Daryl was due to pick her up, but was so exhausted that she'd slept through her alarm and had only woken half an hour before he arrived.

"Toast!" she exclaimed, brandishing a bag of bread she'd found in the freezer, "it's better than nothing."

 

 

They ate outside at the table on the rear porch, and Aisling introduced Daryl to marmalade, a jar of which a friend had sent her from home. "What the hell's that?" he asked as she smeared the sticky jelly, studded with thick chunks of orange peel, across her buttered toast.

"Try it," she held the slice up for him to take a bite.

He did, and chewed thoughtfully for a moment before he raised his eyebrows and nodded appreciatively "S'good!" Daryl took the jar and spread a thick layer of marmalade onto his own toast, reading the label as he did. "Made in County Clare, Ireland," he mused "...don't think I ever ate anythin' made in Ireland before."

Aisling raised an eyebrow suggestively, "Well, that's not strictly true, is it?"

It took a few seconds for Daryl to realize what she meant, and when he did a blush flooded right up to the tips of his ears. Shaking his head slightly as he marveled at the filthy mind that lay in that pretty head of hers, he gently kicked her foot with his underneath the table.

"Everythin' made in Ireland taste so good?"

It was Aisling's turn to blush, but Daryl just cocked an eyebrow and smirked as he continued eating his toast.

 

"So," she asked, clearing her throat, "Have you got any plans for today?"

"No, was gonna see what ya wanted to do. Want me to go?" He wondered if perhaps he had overstayed his welcome.

"No!" Aisling protested, quickly "Unless… do you want to go?"

"Naw… happy here." He smiled at her from behind the hair that fell in his eyes, then went back to eating his toast. "You got plans?" he asked, licking away a glob of marmalade that had fallen onto the back of his hand.

 

Aisling wasn't sure how to phrase what she wanted to say. She didn't want to frighten him away by coming on too strong, but at the same time she didn't want to let the little time they had slip away because she'd been too cautious to seize it. "I wondered if, maybe…em, if you'd nothing else to do, you might… em..."

_Well done, Aisling. Really smooth. You've got quite a way with words._

Daryl waited, curious to see what it was that she was trying to spit out.

Aisling took a breath, and tried again, her eyes fixed on Daryl's "Would you like to stay for the rest of the weekend?"

"Ya want me to?"

"Yes, Daryl, I want you to, but if you don't it's fine. Just tell me, okay! I won't break, or cry or anything." As the words left her mouth, Aisling immediately wished that she could reel them back in and keep them unsaid. Her frustration at Daryl's apparent inability to make a decision without her first having to massage his feelings was a knee-jerk reaction. This was his first relationship, so of course he was feeling a little out of his depth and probably in need of a little more reassurance than other men she'd been with.

 

His eyes were a little wider than they had been, and he chewed at his lips as he processed what she had said. He hadn't meant to piss her off. It looked like, in his eagerness to make sure that she was happy and to avoid annoying her, he had managed to make her unhappy and annoyed her.

Before he had a chance to say anything, she reached out and grabbed his large hand in hers. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped," she smiled apologetically, "I don't play games, Daryl. If I ask if you want to stay, it's because I want you to stay. You just need to tell me what you want."

He nodded, and swallowed "Wanna stay."

 

Aisling leaned over and kissed him softly. He tasted of oranges, melted butter and the cigarette he'd just lit. "Good," she whispered against his lips, before she pulled back and stole a cigarette for herself from his pack.

"I'm going to cook you lunch tomorrow" she declared, exhaling a long stream of smoke out into the sunny morning.

"What with? Y'aint got no food, remember?"

 

Aisling told Daryl about a farmers market outside Palmetto, where several of her colleagues leased properties. Stuart, the camera operator, was as enthusiastic about food as he was about film, and spent many tea breaks and lunch hours telling Aisling about the wonderful produce he and his wife had bought at the market on the village green. Interest - and stomach – piqued, Aisling decided that this sunny, bare-cupboarded morning would be an ideal time to explore and shop.

Daryl wasn't entirely sure what a farmers market entailed, but he guessed that it involved lots of overpriced produce and smug, middle-class couples, but if Aisling wanted to go he would go too. If she'd suggested they go somewhere to watch paint dry he'd have gone there too, if it meant spending more time with her.

 

* * *

 

 

Daryl drove them to the market in his truck, his hair still damp from the shower they had taken together. He'd gone into her bedroom to get his clothes, but when she had called to him from the bathroom, and he'd seen the soap suds slide down her slick body, he was naked and in there with her before he could fully process what it was that he was doing.

 

A smile played across his lips as he remembered the feel of her wet skin, slipping against his as he'd hooked his arms under her knees and lifted her up against the tile wall. He'd gripped her hips and thighs tightly as he thrust into her, deep and hard.

 

Glancing across at Aisling in the passenger seat, he smirked when he saw the dreamy smile on her face as she stared into space, twirling a strand of her long, dark hair around in her fingers.

He'd experienced so many 'firsts' since he'd met Aisling, a lot of which had happened in the past twenty four hours. They were all great firsts – mindblowing, in fact – but the biggest first for Daryl was the one which had crept up on him over the weeks. Love.

 

* * *

 

The Farmers Market was much as Daryl had expected it to be, but Aisling loved it. She 'ooh'd and 'aah'd her way around, offering him samples of cheeses, chocolate, and bread to try, as well as a sip of some disgusting tea that was supposedly good for your gut. "Tastes like ass" he spat, and wiped at his tongue with his fingers as Aisling giggled and the tea vendor lady frowned.

 

Initially, Daryl had felt out of place at the market, but each time Aisling took his hand, or held another another sample of food to his mouth, he felt more at ease. Being with Aisling made Daryl feel less of an outsider. Sure, he knew that he didn't look like the average market attendee, but with her at his side he felt like they were a little unit.

His attention was caught by a stand selling hand-crafted herbal soaps at $10 a bar, and he snorted. The soap he bought for him and Merle cost $2.99 for three bars. He turned to catch up with Aisling, but stopped when he noticed her talking to a middle-aged couple just ahead.

 

"I can't believe we came all the way from Kidderminster and saw you here!" the British lady exclaimed as she held her phone out to take a picture of Aisling with her husband.

"We love Wild Geese. Every Sunday evening, without fail, we settle down on the sofa to watch."

He hung back and listened as Aisling told the lady that they had filmed some scenes on a canal near the English midlands town a few years ago.

"Is Aiden with you?" the woman asked, looking around "My daughter is a huge fan of his."

"No, I'm here with my boyfriend, but Andy's filming out near Senoia today. If you go there you might spot him."

 

Daryl's chest swelled with pride to hear her call him her boyfriend, and as he walked towards her another group of four women he'd noticed hovering nearby approached her.

"We're such big fans, honey! Our book group was all a-buzzin' when we found out y'all were filmin' near here."

He leaned against the supporting pole of a stall beside them and watched as the women all ambushed her with questions about the show, asking her what happened next. She was diplomatic as she answered them, not giving anything away but remaining polite. He could tell that Aisling was a little uncomfortable with the attention, but she was still gracious with her time, making sure that she had signed everything they thrust into her hands.

 

"Would you take a picture, young man?" Daryl was shaken out of his observations as one of the women held a camera out towards him. He nodded, and took the heavy camera from her. The woman, in her 60s he guessed, with thin wrists weighed down with expensive looking jewelry, showed him how to take the picture and pointed out that she'd set it on automatic so all he had to do was point and click.

"Are you sure you'll get that back, Martha?" a smaller, chubbier woman in a pink polo shirt said quietly to her friend "he doesn't look entirely trust worthy."

Aisling watched as Daryl bristled, his acute hearing easily picking up her whispered words. He raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything as he held the camera up and took the picture.

"I can assure you that my boyfriend won't steal your belongings, ladies. Now, if you'll excuse us we really must be going." Aisling's voice was clipped, verging on the brusque.

"Really, Hettie, did you have to be so rude?" Martha admonished her friend as Aisling took Daryl's hand in hers and squeezed it. "Silly cow" she muttered, and led him over to a truck selling empanadas.

 

* * *

 

 

"That happen much?" Daryl asked as he loaded her bags of fruit, vegetables, bread, cheeses, and meat into his truck. Aisling got into the passenger seat, carefully laying the bunch of sunflowers she'd got for Corinne on her lap.

"What, people asking for pictures?" she asked as he climbed in the drivers side. "Sometimes, back in London. Andy always got more of it than I did though."

When he didn't answer she looked across and saw him staring out his window at a tall dark-haired man standing about fifty feet away. He was wearing long, baggy shorts and a t-shirt, and had a large camera in his hand. "You see that guy?" he grunted, nodding his head towards the man who was now pointing the camera towards them.

"Yeah… looks like a pap. Ignore him."

Daryl huffed, flipped the guy off, then steered the truck out into the street and drove a giggling Aisling home.

 

* * *

 

"Merle, you home?" Daryl called as he opened his front door. A grunt and a muttered "No" from Merle's bedroom told him that his brother was indeed in.

 

After dropping Aisling off at her house, Daryl had gone home to change his clothes, pick up his toothbrush, clean socks and underwear for tomorrow, and dig out some better clothes for their dinner at Shaun's house that night. He didn't have much to chose from, but selected a black shirt that he'd worn to Stevie's christening and put it into his gray backpack.

"Daryl! C'mere, gotta talk to ya!" Merle yelled from his bed. Daryl finished gathering a few things, then went to Merle's room.

 

"What?" He sniffed the air a second, then gagged slightly "Good Lord, Merle! What the hell ya eat last night?" He pulled the blind aside to open the window and let the choking fug of Merle's digestive grumblings out.

Merle chuckled as he pulled himself up to sit up in bed with his back against the wall.

"Where were you last night, baby brother?" he grinned, and raised his eyebrows when Daryl told him that he'd stayed at Aisling's. "You two finally smash pissers then?"

"S'none of your damn business," Daryl's face went pink and Merle laughed loudly, slapping his thigh. "Well, shit, ain't you just adorable!"

"Stop bein' such a fuckin' jackass, Merle," he growled "What did ya wanna talk about?"

 

Merle's face grew serious, and he patted the edge of his bed for his brother to sit down. "Had a visitor yesterday. Goes by the name Larry Morgan, here..." he picked a business card from his nightstand and tossed it over to Daryl "he left that in the mailbox".

_LONDON DAILY POST - LARRY MORGAN – SENIOR REPORTER_

On the left was an address in England, on the right a list of telephone numbers, most of them international, with an Atlanta number written in pen underneath.

 

"What did he want?" Daryl asked, turning the card over in his hands. He had an increasingly bad feeling about this, deep in his stomach.

Merle shrugged "Told him to fuck off. Said I'd shoot his ass if he didn't get off my property."

 

Daryl filled Merle in on what he'd heard from Shaun, about this guy visiting his work, asking questions about him, Aisling and Andy. When he said that Cassie had met him at the Goat Tavern, Merle nodded slowly.

"I gotta do a bit of diggin' round 'fore I'm sure, but I gotta feelin' that ol' Andy and Cassie have been spendin' a little quality time together."

"Cassie and Andy?" Daryl had never seen Andy outside the plantation apart from at the diner, and he'd certainly never seen him with Cassie.

"Yeah..." Merle rubbed his chin, deep in thought "I don't know what that lil' bitch's up to, but I intend on findin' out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we have it: That's where I'm up to so far.   
> As I update, I'll post in both locations.
> 
> So...... what do you think? Everyone's been very quiet so far. I know the sex is explicit, but I've rated it accordingly - I think. 
> 
> I'm enjoying writing it, and I hope people are enjoying reading it.


	22. Chapter 22

"Oh God, they're here!" Corinne shrieked from the bathroom as she pulled a hairbrush through her wavy brown hair "I'm not ready, Shaun!"

Shaun rolled his eyes and switched off the television in the den. "Calm down, Cori," he called to his wife as he walked towards the front door, "Jus' our friends!"

Corinne had worked herself into a bit of a state over the evening. In all the years she'd been with Shaun she could count the amount of times she had formally entertained on one hand. Watching shows on the Food Network as she nursed the kids, she had daydreamed about hosting elegant evenings for friends. She would cook wonderful food, and everyone would have a great time and have witty, interesting conversations. Instead, she got to grill hotdogs for Daryl, Chuck and Shaun's brothers and colleagues while they talked about hunting, football and cars.

Her girlfriends weren't really the dinner party types, and so apart from their annual 4th of July party, which she did love doing, and a Halloween party for the kids, she had fallen into a somewhat resentful entertaining rut.

With Aisling and Sarah now on the scene she had seen the opportunity and jumped in with both feet. "You want me to invite Chuck an' Daryl to a dinner party?" Shaun had asked incredulously over breakfast on Friday morning as his wife pored over the little folder of recipes and table settings she'd torn from magazines over the years and filed away, with little hope of ever using them.

"Yes, with Aisling and Sarah. If the girls can't make it I'm not doing it," she said, scribbling a list on the pad of paper beside her "I'm not getting out my good china and lighting candles for Daryl and Chuck to talk about engines and belch all night."

When word came back on Friday night that everyone was coming, she had squealed with excitement and went into full-on preparation mode. Shaun was assigned floor and window cleaning duties, full child-care responsibility, and made to solemnly swear that he would remove the pile of engine parts from the laundry room. Meanwhile, Corinne threw herself into list-making, shopping, and cooking – occasionally calling Shaun in to taste something, or give his opinion on which of two almost identical napkins he liked the best – and now, with the table set, the candles lit and the kids in bed she was wondering if she hadn't bitten off a little more than she could chew.

"Music!" she threw her hands up in the air, and ran into the kitchen, pulling on her heels as she went.

 

* * *

 

"Wow, look at you, Dixon. Got a court appearance?" Shaun laughed at Daryl's obvious discomfort as he stood with Aisling in the doorway. His dark hair was something approaching neat, and he was wearing a black button down and black jeans.

"Could say the same 'bout you" Daryl huffed, and thrust a pack of fancy-ass beers he'd bought at the market earlier into Shaun's hands. Shaun laughed, looking down at his own pale blue shirt and beige pants "Yeah, Corinne's got me dressed up like her Dad."

"Aisling! Daryl! C'mon in!" Corinne's joined her husband at the door, looking slightly wild-eyed, but otherwise calm and collected. "You look wonderful, Aisling. I love your dress!" She admired the brunette's red shirt dress, which was splashed with large abstract flowers in whites and blues, and beamed happily when Aisling declared that she loved Corinne's strappy red heels.

As the two women admired each other on their way into the kitchen, Shaun pulled Daryl aside slightly "Corinne's got herself all worked up about tonight. Told her it was just you guys, but she wants it to be special so..."

"Gotta' say 'scuse me' 'fore I piss in the corner, right?" Daryl smirked and Shaun laughed as he swatted at his head lightly before he steered him into the kitchen.

 

Shaun wasn't lying; Corinne had really gone all out for tonight. The table was laid with her best china and linen, the lights were low and candlelight flickered off the glasses and made the knives, forks and spoons shine brightly. Daryl was taken aback, nodding as he looked around. Corinne put Aisling's sunflowers in a big vase and set them on the counter. "This really your damn house?" he whispered to Shaun, who started to mutter something about women and 'fuckin' candles' when the doorbell rang, and Chuck and Sarah arrived.

 

* * *

 

"How's it goin' on the show? Got any spoilers, only… my Dad's been naggin' me to ask ya..." Shaun asked Aisling as he refilled her wine glass.

"Yeah, it's going to be a busy two weeks," she answered, scooping up a forkful of shrimp and linguine "My character gets raped, is thrown in prison, and dies… so, there's a scoop for him."

Daryl's eyebrows shot up, "Ya die?" he asked around a mouthful of pasta.

Aisling nodded, and Daryl frowned, wondering why she hadn't told him. "Rewrite," she explained "I decided not to do another series." He nodded, chewing slowly. So her character was dying, and she was leaving the show, and she hadn't thought to tell him either of those things? He couldn't put a label on what he was feeling, but it wasn't good. Unsettled, maybe? Worried?

What else hadn't she told him? Was this her way of 'checking out' of what they had going, slowly distancing herself from him? He shook his head slightly, trying to free his mind of all the questions buzzing through it.

 

"I'd imagine that shooting a rape scene must be hard' Corinne asked, both concerned and curious.

"I haven't done one before, but I'm not expecting it to be much fun..." Aisling admitted and took a sip of wine, glancing across at Daryl who was shoveling another gigantic forkful of linguine into his mouth. Truthfully, for the past month the scene had been looming ahead of her like storm clouds on the horizon, and the thought of it made her feel anxious.

 

Chuck chewed his lip, deep in thought, then waved his fork between Sarah and Aisling "How'd they do nude scenes? Like, are y'all really buck naked, grindin' on each other n'all?"

Daryl spluttered, and shot a look at Chuck so poisonous that his friend tried desperately to back pedal "I didn't mean nothin', I was jus' wonderin'..."

Sarah giggled at her boyfriend's apologetic face, "It's fine. Usually, no. There are these little drawstring bags that men wear over their junk, and us girls can wear a little sticky patch. Nothing usually comes into direct contact."

 

"You say 'usually'. Have you ever gone without one?" Corinne's mind was full of questions. The idea of being in such close contact to another person that wasn't her husband was alien to her, and she wanted to understand how these girls did it.

Sarah nodded "The adhesive on the patches can fail if you get all sweaty, and sometimes it's just easier to take the damn thing off and get the shot done, so you don't have to keep stopping and starting to reapply it, y'know."

"I guess that makes sense, wanting it all over quicker" Corinne mused. "Do people ever get, y'know… carried away?"

"Well, it's biology isn't it," Sarah babbled, draining her wine glass "It can be a lot of fun, y'know? You're getting hot and heavy with a good looking guy, and you've probably both had a few drinks first to loosen you up." She held her glass out to Shaun for a refill and continued "Although, I know a girl whose co-star ejaculated all over her stomach during a love scene, and he was, like, 'yeah, that happens' as if it was completely normal."

 

If Sarah had hoped that her reply would ease Chuck or Daryl's mind, she couldn't have been more wrong. Chuck frowned, making a mental note to carry this conversation on in private, and Daryl stabbed murderously at the shrimp on his plate with a fork, before stuffing them angrily into his mouth.

 

"So..." Shaun tried desperately to think of something to say to lighten the mood around the table, and discretely moved the bottle of wine away from Sarah "This is real good, Corinne!"

Aisling nodded enthusiastically, "So gorgeous! I must get the recipe from you."

 

The conversation gradually picked back up and the awkwardness from earlier was largely forgotten. Aisling noticed that Daryl was still brooding, but he had stopped attacking his food. He felt her eyes on him and looked across at her, giving her a little half smile that didn't reach his beautiful blue eyes at all.

 

"You're going to London when you've finished filming, aren't you Sarah? Have you been before?" Corinne asked politely, although she still felt a little pissed off at the pretty redhead for bringing the mood down.

"Yeah, a couple of times. Have any of you guys been?" Shaun and Corinne had visited once before Paige was born, and Aisling had lived there, but neither Chuck nor Daryl had been.

"Ain't never been outa Georgia" Daryl snorted, taking a large gulp of beer. "Oh, you have to go Daryl!" Sarah enthused, oblivious to Aisling's warning stare "Maybe you could visit Ash there sometime? I can't wait to go! We're going to have such a good time, aren't we girl?"

Although the urge to reach out and push Sarah's stupid tipsy face into what was left of her dinner was strong, Aisling just nodded and smiled. Leaving Goat Rock had tacitly become 'the subject that must not be mentioned' between her and Daryl, becoming an even larger elephant in the room with each passing day.

 

Daryl stood up abruptly, and reached into the pocket of his shirt for his cigarettes. "Did good, Corinne" he said gruffly, and nodded at his friend's wife "Real nice food. Goin' for a smoke."

He didn't want to hear all about the  _good time_  Aisling and Sarah were going to have in London.

"I'll join ya," Shaun said and followed him out onto the back porch.

 

"Hey, Aisling, would you help me out with dessert?" Corinne asked? Aisling helped her gather the plates and followed her into the kitchen, leaving Sarah to tell Chuck about a Skype call she'd had with a director in London today.

 

"Would you consider staying?" Corinne asked her quietly, as she rinsed the plates and began to load the dishwasher. Aisling nodded, sadly "In a heartbeat."

"Then why don't you?"

Aisling's shoulders fell as she leaned back against the kitchen island, and played distractedly with the drawstring waist on her shirt dress. "Daryl would have asked me to stay if he wanted me to. He's known from the start that I was leaving, and he's never tried to convince me otherwise."

Corinne left the plates and stood in front of Aisling, grabbing her hands "Why does it have to be on Daryl? Can't you tell him you want to stay?"

Aisling sighed "And freak him out? 'Oh by the way Daryl, I want to stay because the thought of leaving you makes me cry'. He's obviously ok with me leaving, and I'm not going to pressurize him into a long-term thing that he doesn't want."

 

 

At the same time, Shaun was having the exact same conversation with Daryl, who was leaning with his elbows on the railing, blowing smoke out into the night.

"She'd stay if she wanted to, but she ain't never said nothin' 'bout it."

"Do you want her to go?" Shaun couldn't understand why these two people, who were obviously mad about each other, were going to split for no good reason that he could see.

Daryl glanced across at Shaun and chewed his lips as he thought for a second or two.

"No. Never want her to go. Feel fuckin' sick everytime I think about it."

"So ask her to stay!" Shaun hissed, exasperated.

"Hell, what's in Goat Rock for her? She ain't got no reason to stay here. No work, no friends, 'an a boyfriend who brings home less a week than what she spends on fuckin' fancy bread an' shit?" He shook his head and took a drag on his cigarette "Nah, she'd only say no an' it would be damn awkward. Rather two great weeks left than none at all."

Shaun had never wanted to shake Daryl more. "So, what then? She goes, and you do what?"

Daryl shrugged "Get on with life. Ain't got no choice."

 

* * *

 

There was a slight chill in the night air, so Shaun lit the fire pit and pulled the chairs and benches round for the group to sit and finish their drinks after dessert.

Daryl sat close beside Aisling on a bench and put his arm around her, drawing her into his body.

_Don't give a shit if anyone's lookin'. If I'm waitin' for times when nobody's roun' she'll have gone 'fore I know it._

 

"What about that reporter, guys? Anyone find out anythin' more 'bout him?" Chuck asked nobody in particular.

"Shaun told me about him and… I've got a bad feeling about it." Corinne said as she leaned back against her husband. "We were talking about it last night, and we want you to know, Aisling, that if things get out of control you're to come here, okay?"

Shaun nodded in agreement "That's right. You're always welcome, an' you won't be so isolated here."

Aisling felt a little swell of happiness in her chest as she looked at the couple offering their home as a refuge. She'd only known them a short while, and they'd welcomed her into their lives with open arms. "Thanks guys, that's really sweet."

 

"Prick visted Merle at home too" Daryl muttered, and told them what had happened, and Merle's suspicions about Cassie and Andy.

"You guys know Andy's been using hookers, right?" Sarah asked, looking at the surprised faces around the fire.

"What?" Aisling was stunned "Where did you hear that?"

Sarah shrugged "I thought everyone knew. One of the grips has been getting girls for him. Do you think this Cassie chick could be one of them?"

Daryl's eyes widened as everyone turned to look at him, as if he could answer the question. "The hell? How the fuck would I know? Ain't never done nothin' with her but tell her to leave me alone."

He thought for a moment "S'pose she could be… I'll ask Merle."

 

"Maybe Andy told her about him kissing you, and you hitting him, and she's gone blabbing to the media!" Sarah exclaimed, sitting up straight in surprise at her own brainwave.

Noticing the confused faces again staring at her from around the fire she sighed, and picked up her wine glass from the ground beside her "Nobody knew that either, huh?"

Everyone was silent, looking between Aisling, and Daryl.

"The fuck she talkin' 'bout?" Daryl asked Aisling, pulling his arm away from around her shoulders to stand up and light a cigarette. He paced as Aisling gave him a brief synopsis of the night she had gone to Andy's house. "He hurt ya?" he paused to ask, and she shook her head "No."

 

* * *

 

"Tonight didn't go as well as you'd hoped, huh Cori?" Shaun and Corinne stood at the kitchen sink, after everyone had left. Corinne paused as she washed up the wine glasses, and looked at her husband "I think my hopes were unrealistically high," she smiled.

"Sarah don't know when to stop, does she?" Shaun remarked, drying the glass that Corinne had passed him and setting it down on the island.

"Drinking, or talking?" Corinne asked with a smirk. She had liked Sarah, but had found her company for the evening tedious, and was glad that she was unlikely to have to spend much more extended periods of time with her before she left.

"Both," Shaun laughed "Man, it was like she was on a damn mission to piss Daryl off. Did you see his face when him an' Aisling left? Like damn thunder."

 

Corinne finished washing up, drained the sink, dried her hands off and picked up her glass of wine. She hopped up onto the kitchen island and swung her feet, thinking about the evening.

"How does Daryl feel about Aisling leaving?" she asked, as casually as she could. She didn't want to meddle in his life, but at the same time she didn't want to just sit idly by and watch him let the best thing that had ever happen to him slip through his fingers.

Shaun looked over at her as he dried another glass, his brow creased with a look of suspicion. "Why?"

"Just wondering," she took a sip of wine "I mean, he hasn't asked her to stay or anything, has he? I was a little surprised, but he must be totally fine about it."

Her best 'innocent face' didn't fool her husband. "Were you talking to Aisling about it?"

Corinne nodded. "Did you talk to Daryl about it?"

Shaun nodded in reply.

 

They were silent for a moment, before Corinne sighed "She doesn't want to go, but she thinks he doesn't want her to stay."

"He doesn't want her to go, but he thinks she don't wanna stay" Shaun smiled and shook his head, then set down the towel and wrapped his arms around his wife's waist.

"What can we do, honey? I don't want to watch them just walk away and lose this chance. They've got to seize the-"

Shaun pressed a soft kiss to her lips, silencing her. "We can't do nothin', Cori. Neither of 'em will thank us for meddlin'. Just gotta hope they figure it out themselves."


	23. Chapter 23

 

Daryl was silent as they drove back to Aisling's house, gripping the old, worn steering wheel of his truck, trying to process all the new information without lashing out at her. He was frustrated because she had kept so much from him, things that he thought she should have wanted to tell him. He was furious with Andy. The thought of him cornering her, touching her, kissing her…

 

They each stole glances at the other, neither wanting to be the one to start the conversation they both knew they needed to have.

 

 

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Andy.” Her voice was quiet. She wasn't afraid to talk to Daryl, but she was worried by his silence, not knowing which way he would go. Would he erupt on her? Would he give her the silent treatment?

 

“Why didn't ya? I'd have kicked his nuts up into his damn throat.” His thin lipped response reminded Aisling of a rattle snake one of the crew had found on location last week. Daryl would be as quick to strike as the snake, had the animal handler on set not safely moved it away.

 

“That's why I didn't tell you. I have to work with him, at least for the next couple of weeks. How would you getting arrested possibly help the situation?”

 

He hated the thought of that greasy, vain prick putting his hands on her.

 

“If that little turd lays another finger on you, I'll kill him.”

 

Aisling's hand reached across to gently squeeze his bicep “You have my permission to.”

 

“Ya gotta tell me this shit, Ash,” he said, moving his left hand to squeeze hers on his arm, and she nodded and smiled at him, her eyes shining in the darkness of the truck.

 

*.*

 

The flashing light on the telephone on the kitchen counter let Aisling know that she had a message. “Want a glass of wine?” she asked Daryl, who leaned back against the kitchen wall, watching as she kicked her sandals off onto the floor. She nodded over towards the bottles in the rack beside the refrigerator, and held the bottle opener out to him with one hand, as she pressed the buttons of the phone with the other.

 

Daryl opened a bottle of wine, and got two glasses from a cupboard as Aisling held the phone under her chin, and grabbed a pen to write something on the back of a script as she listened to the message.

.

 

“We're in the paper, Daryl” she sighed, pressing the button to hang up, and sat the phone back down on the counter.

 

“Huh? The show?” he asked, handing her a glass almost full to the brim with wine. She made a mental note to ask him to only fill the glasses part way up, as she pursed her lips at the brim and tried to suck out enough wine to allow her to hold the glass without spilling it everywhere.

 

“No, me and you.”

 

He frowned, wondering why he might be in a newspaper. Apart from to read stories about Aisling, newspapers were things he'd rarely looked at, so he had no idea what he might have done to justify appearing in one. His Mom's death had warranted a few lines in the local paper. It was mentioned that she left behind two sons; Merle and Daryl, but as far as he knew that was the only time his name had been considered 'news'.

 

Aisling went to the desk and brought her laptop into the kitchen, setting it between them on the counter. She typed in the url she'd copied down, and opened a story in The Sunday Post; the Weekend edition of the newspaper the journalist who had been enquiring about them wrote for.

 

P _ICTURE EXCLUSIVE:_ _Not A Wild G_ _rocery_ _C_ _hase!  
Aisling O'Brien and new American love shop up a storm at farmers market._

_By: Larry Morgan._

 

_She's in the midst of an on-screen torrid love affair as troubled Irish emigrant Ellen O'Hanlon, but Wild Geese beauty Aisling O'Brien took a much more relaxed approach to life with her new love, mechanic Darrell Dickson in Palmetto, GA on Saturday._

_Their arms wrapped around one another, they gazed into one another's eyes and talked closely as they strolled around the upmarket stalls in the Georgian sunshine._

_The Irish brunette (25) wore a blue SEA flocked sun dress and Fendi sandals, flaunting her toned limbs, while 48-year-old Darrell adopted a more casual look, in dirty blue jeans and a scruffy Motorhead t-shirt._

_The show of togetherness comes amid rumours that tensions and jealousy are blighting the set of the BBC drama in which the dark-haired beauty co-stars with BAFTA award winning actor, Andy Gardener. Fans of the show expressed hopes on social media that the couple might connect in real-life, but the actress' public displays of affection with the volatile mechanic seem set to destroy the dreams of die-hard fans._

_Dickson, whose brother Merrill has spent time behind bars for drug dealing, public affray and aggravated assault, is no stranger to violence himself. Sources close to the couple claim that his aggressive behaviour resulted in an altercation at a bar close to the actresses rented home in Goat Rock, GA, where Dickson assaulted a young student whom he believed was getting too close to the Irish actress._

_Dublin born stunner O'Brien, meanwhile, has long courted controversy. The wild-child daughter of Irish promoter Patrick O'Brien and his estranged wife, US born former model Caroline Huber-O'Brien, famously caused a stir when she was photographed at 17 by notorious celebrity artist Marvin Hascombe for hang:UP magazine, showcasing her naked underage body with nothing more than her then boyfriend's hands to protect her modesty._

_Growing up, photographers were never far away, snapping her as she danced on tables or stepped out with her many showbiz beaus._

_Now 25, O'Brien seemed to have mellowed, and earned accolades for her acting work, but with stories of upset and turmoil on the Wild Geese set, and with a hotheaded boyfriend and his family in tow, who knows what the future holds for Ms O'Brien._

_._

 

“I ain't forty fuckin' eight!” Daryl spluttered through a mouthful of wine.

 

“Sure you aren't lying about your age to me?” Aisling teased, bumping his hip with hers.

 

Daryl snorted, and scrolled back up through the photographs in the article. There were lots of pictures of them at the market, holding hands, standing close together, and others seemingly just there to illustrate Aisling's past.

The photograph of her with a former boyfriend, mentioned in the article, was shown. A very young Aisling pouted into the camera as a dark-haired young man stood behind her, leaning his head on her shoulder. His right arm was stretched across her breasts, and his right hand covered her crotch, which was pixelated.

 

“I _was_ actually wearing underwear in that shot,” she muttered, quietly “It all got edited out by the magazine – they even added pubic hair around his fingers, made it look so seedy - and Marvin took them to court over it. They had to print an apology.” She sighed, and ran her hands through her hair “Guess which picture gets rehashed though.”

 

Daryl stretched his muscular arm out across her shoulders and squeezed her tight “Don't think they're so bothered about gettin' things right, sweetheart.”

 

“I'm sorry, Daryl. This is so unfair to you. You're such a private person, and here you are having bullshit about you plastered all over the Post's 'sidebar of shame'.”

 

He shrugged his shoulders “Ain't your fault, an' it don't matter to me, 'sides them tellin' lies 'bout ya. Ain't like I'm ashamed of bein' with ya, or nothin'.” Looking at the photographs of them together again, Daryl snorted “Look like a damn hobo in half those pictures though.”

 

“No, you don't,” she assured him, leaning her face in to kiss the exposed skin at the neck of his shirt, where the collar parted to expose his throat “You look gorgeous.”

 

“Don't think nobody ever told a Dixon that before,” he said quietly, blushing to the tips of his ears.

 

“Well,” she paused to lean up on her tiptoes and brush her lips across his, “I'm telling you now. I think you're gorgeous, Daryl Dixon, and I am very happy that you're my man. Even if you are secretly forty eight.”

 

*.*

 

 

Daryl lay on his side, watching Aisling as she slept. Her long dark hair was spread out on the pillow behind her, and her hand was splayed across his chest. She'd been tracing her fingertips across the tattoo of his grandfather's name in the post-sex sweat on his chest when she'd fallen asleep.

 

“Who is Norman?” she'd asked, sleepily.

 

“My Grandaddy, Mom's dad,” he'd whispered back and smoothed his hand out across the silky white skin of her arm and slid it up to her shoulder. Her eyes were half closed, and Daryl smiled as he watched her slip closer towards sleep.

 

“Was he nice?”

 

“Best Grandaddy ever,” Daryl said, thinking back fondly to the days when Grandaddy Norman and Grandma Joan would visit them.

 

They would only ever come when his Daddy was away, and with hindsight he realized that the hours he spent with Norman lying on their backs on the Dixon's scrappy yard, identifying birds, or walking round the neighborhood singing old folk tunes together, were opportunities for his Grandma to sit in their decrepit kitchen and try to persuade her daughter to take her sons and leave their father.

 

Norman and Joan were decent, hard working people, who raised their daughter well and wanted nothing but the best for her. When she'd married Will, Merle already the proud focus of attention from within his Mom's belly, his grandparents had hoped that things might work out for the couple. Perhaps Will would settle down, and they could live happily?

 

Watching their daughter sink into alcoholic dependency, shackled to a heartless man who liked to express himself with his fists and his belt, their hearts could only take so much before they broke.

The last time Daryl saw them was at his Mom's funeral.

Merle had been allowed out of juvie to attend the service, and they both stood with their grandparents at the graveside, mourning the woman who could maybe have loved them, if life had been different.

Will wasn't there. He was shacked up in a College Park motel with a waitress called Dixie-Marie, hiding from some guy over a $128 poker debt.

 

When he heard the news of his Father-In-Law's death only a few weeks later, Will had leaned his head back as he sat in his stinking old recliner, and whooped, raising his jelly jar of 'shine in the air.

“Good fuckin' riddance! Another Monroe in the ground, another less one up here, treatin' us Dixon's like we're nothin' but shit on their fuckin' shoes.”

 

Daryl had slipped out into the dusty yard, and lay on his back looking for birds, the tears he wasn't quick enough to scrub away with his fist sliding down, across his temples and into his ears.

 

*.*

 

Daryl woke with a start. He'd dreamed that Norman and Joan were in Aisling's kitchen, which was his old childhood kitchen, telling him that they wanted the best for him. Joan had taken Aisling's hand in her own wrinkled and age-spotted one, and offered it to Daryl, urging him to take it, but he was too afraid to.

 

Now, he was alone in Aisling's bed. Stretching his hand out and running his fingers across the sheet he could feel a trace of her body heat, and was about to get up when he heard her voice from downstairs.

 

“They said he was violent, that he 'assaulted' that dickhead I told you about! And he's thirty six, not forty eight! Jesus, they couldn't even spell his name correctly, Sue! I don't want to dignify this shit with a response.” Her voice carried upstairs as she argued with this Sue person on the other end of the phone, insisting that she didn't want to issue any comment.

 

He linked his fingers behind his head and lay back against the pillow, sighing. At least when she left, with the show over and him out of the picture, the press would leave her alone, wouldn't they?

 

When she left…

Shaun's words from the night before swam in his head. _“_ _She goes, an' you do what?”_

Daryl knew that he would have no option but to get on with life, but saying it and actually being able to do it – to wake up in the morning, knowing she was thousands of miles away, and he would never see her, touch her, kiss her again, and go through his day accepting that – were two very different things.

 

_Hell, feel like shit even thinkin' 'bout it. Ain't gonna be able to do it._

 

He listened to her singing something softly as she moved around the kitchen, not making out any words but loving the sound of her voice. The smell of coffee and something sweet and buttery wafted up, into the room. Daryl pulled himself upright, grabbed his shorts from the floor and went into the bathroom for a piss before going downstairs, all the while wondering if he he had it in him to ask her to stay.

.

 

“Daryl?” she called upstairs as he left the bedroom and stepped onto the hallway “Keep the bed warm for me, I'm bringing breakfast up.”

 

He shrugged, and turned around, pulled his shorts off again and slipped back between the sheets of Aisling's bed.

.

 

“TA-DAAH!” Aisling pushed the bedroom door open, causing the tray she was carrying to wobble slightly. “Shit! Whoops,” she said, biting her bottom lip as she concentrated on keeping everything upright “better set this down before I throw it everywhere.”

 

“I got it,” he sat up and held his hands out for the tray, then rested it carefully on the bed beside his knees. There was a pot of coffee, and two mugs, a bowl of strawberries and a plate of croissants that she'd bought yesterday. “I know they're best on the day they're made, but I warmed them up so they're still good,” she apologised, already chewing on a piece of croissant that she'd torn off. After pouring two mugs of coffee, she put the pot on the nightstand and relaxed back against the pillows, happy that she couldn't knock it over and make a mess.

 

Daryl picked up a croissant and bit into it, enjoying the taste of the warm, buttery pastry in his mouth. As he chewed he watched her stretch her long legs out on top of the covers, and smile across at him.

 

“Heard ya on the phone,” he stuffed the rest of the croissant into his mouth, and licked his fingers clean of pastry flakes, “Everythin' alrigh'?”

 

“Yeah,” Aisling nodded, “I was just venting.”

Daryl knew she wasn't telling him something, but before he could ask her about it she reached across and took the coffee mug from his hands, and set it on the nightstand with her own. She lifted the tray away and set it on the floor by the bed, snagging a strawberry from the bowl as she did so. Popping it into his mouth, she slipped her legs under the covers and sat astride his body.

 

“Stealin' my clothes now, woman?” he smiled around the sweet red fruit in his mouth, and tugged lightly at the end of his shirt, where it rested on his stomach.

“It smelt like you,” Aisling whispered, smiling down at him.

 

“Gonna need that back...” he smirked, and slowly undid the lowest button.

 

“Yeah…?”

 

Daryl nodded, chewing at his bottom lip, and worked on the next button “Yeah, right now.”

 

Button by button he opened the shirt, and when he had finished he reached up and smoothed the fabric off her shoulders, exposing Aisling's body to his eyes. His hands slid along her arms, freeing her completely so he could see all of her, and cupped her soft breasts in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over her hardening nipples.

 

Aisling's lips parted, releasing a quiet moan of pleasure. Daryl's eyes slid down her body to watch her pussy slide along the stiffening length of him, back and forth, as she gently rolled her hips above him. As he angled himself at her entrance, and pulled her hips down so she could engulf him in her soft, wet warmth, he groaned “Fuck… Ash...”

 

Time slipped away as Daryl and Aisling's bodies moved together, a tangle of limbs, mouths, and fingers. This was when they were at their most honest with each other. Neither were afraid to say or do the wrong thing, or keep up a pretence that this was some casual, easy thing.

Daryl's sometimes clumsy but sincere, and wholehearted actions said everything he didn't have the words for.

 

 

*.*

 

 

“That story said y'were a wild-child… that true?” Daryl lay with his head on Aisling's belly, looking up at her face as he traced a meandering pattern on her skin with his fingers. “Mmmmhmm,” she nodded, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the feeling of Daryl's rough fingertips on her.

 

“What, like stealin' cars 'n shit?”

 

Aisling snorted, and shook her head, giggling. “No, I didn't steal cars. I was quite the party girl.”

 

Daryl frowned “What, like a stripper?” He thought maybe a party girl was a girl hired to be at parties, and the only type of girls he thought would be hired to be at parties were strippers or hookers, and he hoped she had never been a hooker.

 

This time Aisling let out a loud laugh, making his head bob up and down as her abdomen moved. “You think I was some kind of car-stealing stripper? That's what you think of me?”

 

“Shut up,” he grumbled into her belly button “how the hell am I s'posed to know what a party girl is.”

 

“I partied, a lot. I got really drunk, did all the drugs, kissed all the rockstars… pretty much anything I could do to get attention.”

She looked down at his face, to see how he was taking this information, but his expression was neutral so she carried on, “My parents aren't what you'd call the nurturing type, so as soon as I was old enough to leave boarding school I just kind of went crazy. I just wanted someone to pay attention to me, maybe even love me, and behaving like that was the only way I knew how to get it” she laughed, sadly “stupid, huh.”

 

“Ain't stupid,” Daryl whispered, and took one of her hands in his, kissing her knuckles softly.

 

“Me an' Merle didn't get much attention neither, well, not the kind y'oughta give a kid. Merle went to juvie when I was still pretty young... guess he was doin' the same as you, getting' up to shit an' lookin' for someone to notice him.”

 

The brutality that Daryl had obviously faced wasn't even remotely the same as Aisling's 'poor little rich girl, nobody loves her' story, but she understood that he was trying to empathise with her.

 

“Was it your Daddy who gave you your scars?”

 

He nodded, and bit at his lips as he searched her face for any sign of pity, or disgust, but there was none.

 

“And yet, you dropped out of school to care for him when he got sick?”

 

“He was blood,” he said, simply “Gotta do what'cha can.”

 

Aisling gently pulled Daryl's head up to where she could wrap her fingers in his bed-tousled hair and kiss his soft lips. “You,” she whispered “are a good man, Daryl Dixon.”

 

*.*

 

They got up late, neither being in any hurry to leave the warmth and comfort of each other's bodies. After showering, Aisling did as she had promised and made him lunch, which they ate outside at the little table that was their favorite spot to eat.

 

“Real good,” Daryl said around a mouthful of chicken, which Aisling had roasted with lemons, garlic and herbs “didn't know ya could cook”. He had second, and third helpings, which made Aisling beam with pride.

 

Later, they lay on the couch trying to chose a movie to watch and Daryl belched loudly.

“Pardon me, sweetheart” he laughed at Aisling's raised eyebrow, and pulled her close.

 

“Urgh, no, I can't watch that guy.”

 

Daryl watched Aisling's face screw up as he scrolled though the movies on her television and paused on one he'd heard Shaun mention before. “Why not? Seems cool.”

 

“Nuh-uh, he's a total creep. I was at a party he was at a few years back and he was out of control. Really obnoxious, high as a kite, hitting on every girl there until this one girl said yes. He dragged her into the bathroom, couldn't get it up and started yelling at her. All while his girlfriend was back home pregnant with his kid.”

 

“'Okay, sounds like a prick. Right...” he scrolled down the list a bit more “What about this one?”

 

“She's a complete bitch.”

 

“Y'know, watchin' movies with ya is gonna be pretty damn hard if ya know everyone in 'em. Anyone ya _do_ like?” he huffed.

 

Aisling giggled as she lay on the couch with her head in his lap, trying to eat the last croissant, smeared with raspberry jelly, without covering Daryl and herself in pastry and sticky fruit. “You're right, I'm sorry. Just choose something. You won't hear another peep out of me.”

 

He carried on scrolling through the movies, glancing down at her occasionally to watch her finish the croissant and lick her fingers clean.

 

“Oh, last peep, I promise. Have you seen ' _Shaun Of The Dead_ '?” Daryl shook his head. “It's really funny, and I don't hate anyone in it!”

 

“'Kay, let's watch it then. Ya comfy down there?” He looked down at her pretty face looking up at him from his lap. His girl.

 

She wiggled herself up to sit in the corner of the couch, with her legs over his. “Better,” she announced. “You may begin.”

 

*.*

 

 

“You know what? I'd be fucked in a zombie apocalypse. I'd just hide in a cupboard and cry until I was eaten.”

 

The credits rolled on the movie Aisling and Daryl had just watched as they lay on her sofa.

 

“I'd save ya.” Daryl pushed a strand of hair back from her face.

 

“You'd better. I reckon you'd be pretty good to have around, actually, with your crossbow. You'd be all resourceful and manly, and shit.”

 

“You could keep my morale up...” he murmured, and kissed her, long and slow before he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers.

“Gotta go, Ash. Deliverin' a car real early tomorrow mornin'.”

 

“Okay,” she nodded, and kissed him. “I've enjoyed you being here, you know? I'll miss you.”

Her shy smile tugged at his insides, making him want to push her down onto the couch and not go anywhere.

“Gonna miss you too, sweetheart” he groaned, and wrapped his fingers in her hair, pulling her in for another kiss.


	24. Chapter 24

_**WARNING: This chapter contains a description of a 'dramatic portrayal' of rape, and discussion about sexual assault and it's definitions.** _

_**Any opinions expressed are those of the characters, and are not necessarily mine.** _

* * *

 

"Cassie's a hooker?" Daryl asked Merle as they sat at the bar of The Goat Tavern on Monday evening.

Merle looked at him sideways "You serious? Course she's a damn hooker!" he scoffed. He took a long cooling drink from his bottle, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You think it was just her sparklin' personality had the men linin' up, baby brother?"

Daryl shrugged "Can't say as I ever paid any attention to her."

Merle shook his head and laughed "Oh, lordy, you sure is green, ain'tcha Darylina." He slapped his brother's back and chuckled.

"So, I found out that ol' Andy's been gettin' girls sent up to his house, and our lil' clap riddled friend was one of 'em. Seems she's his favorite ho of choice lately, so I figure there's been some interestin' pillow talk goin' on."

Daryl told Merle what he had learned about the evening where Aisling had gone to Andy's house, when he'd tried to kiss her.

"Ol' Andy's got a bit of a thing for your lil' fairy since way back when, an' his mind ain't in the best place right now. I figure he's been shootin' his mouth off to Cassie an' that's what she's been whisperin' in that reporter prick's ear."

Daryl squinted at Merle as he took a mouthful of beer "What the hell'd you know 'bout Andy's mind?" Then, it dawned on him and he glared at his brother "You been dealin' to him, have ya?"

Merele grinned and drained his beer bottle, then held it up for the bartender to get him another "You oughta' be thankin' me, baby brother. Might have ourselves some kinda bargainin' chip now.

Daryl sighed, and scrubbed his hands over his face. "Oughta tell Ash all this."

"Where is she tonight anyway? Thought you two were joined at the pussy these days."

"At home, readin' her lines or somethin'." The thought of what she was going to be doing with Andy tomorrow hadn't been far from the front of Daryl's mind since she'd told him.

"Tomorrow's gonna be tough for her. Gonna have that prick all over her, pretendin' to rape her."

Merle sucked in a deep breath through pursed lips and rubbed at the back of his head "Yeah, that don't sound like no picnic." He played with a matchstick clamped between his teeth as he thought the situation over "Can't ya go down there? Be there when they film it, keep an eye on that asshole?"

"Offered to," Daryl shrugged again and picked at the label on his beer bottle "ain't somethin' I'd be dyin' to see, but thought it might help some. She said she'd be worryin' about me, wouldn't be able to concentrate properly an' she just wants to get it done and get the fuck outta there."

When Aisling had met him for lunch earlier in the diner, she'd told him that she would usually trust an actor that she was about to do a scene like that with, but she didn't trust Andy as far as she could throw him. She didn't feel comfortable with him, and while that might make the emotions required in the scene all the more authentic, she was dreading it.

"Can't ya tell 'em y'aint gonna do it?" he'd asked her, watching as she'd poked and prodded at her sandwich without taking a bite of it the entire time they'd sat there, wishing there was something he could do to help her.

"No," she had shook her head "not at this late stage, and it's integral to the whole story this season. I signed up for it, and people put their lives on hold for this show, moved half way around the world… I have to be grown-up and professional, and just do it."

* * *

 

Just a mile or so away Aisling sat cross-legged on the floor of her darkening living room. A script with all it's multicolored pages of inserted edits and rewrites lay abandoned at her feet. Her director Ian had asked her to listen to a playlist he had made for her, which she'd stopped after hearing only four tracks of the twenty she suspected he'd found on a 'Most Miserable, Soul Crushing Songs Ever' list somewhere on the internet.

Aisling thought about Ellen O'Hanlon, and the miserable life the fictional character had led, and tried to get into her head.

Ellen had left a famine stricken country as a teenager, heading out to seek hope alone in England when her family were turned out of their home. She knew that the chances of ever seeing them again were slim to non-existent, but she was gutsy and stubborn, and naive.

When Ellen met Aiden on the rocky boat journey over, she first saw him as an older brother figure, who could protect her and help her navigate her way through male dominated society in a country currently in a frenzy of anti-Irish and anti-Catholic sentiment. As time went on and their situation went from bad to worse, Ellen and Aiden eventually grew closer and began a relationship which was doomed from the start as Aiden railed against the subjugation he continued to feel living under British rule.

His bitterness began to eat into his good nature, leaving him an angry, vengeful man who went to America in search of a new start, and found himself caught up in a war where death and brutality only compounded his mental deterioration. Ellen bore the brunt of his downfall, but had tried to make things work between them while also trying to do what she'd felt people who could have, hadn't done for her and her family in Ireland; help people who needed it.

Tomorrow, she would tell Aiden that she wanted to leave him, and Aiden would rape her. The man she'd once thought could protect her, and make her happy, was hell-bent on destroying her.

_God, I can't wait for this bloody thing to be over._

Aisling poured a glass to whiskey to help her sleep, and trudged despondently upstairs to bed.

*.*

"Ellen's rape is a metaphor for Aiden's war, against the Union, the world and himself."

The assembled cast and crew around the long table in the room where Aisling had photographed Merle all those weeks ago nodded, and scribbled notes on their various scripts and call sheets.

"There's nothing inevitable about rape in conflict," Ian, the director, continued, tapping his pen on the table for emphasis "this is a weapon that Aiden has chosen to pick up, so this scene is about how his desire to gain control, his need to overpower, is destroying everything he ever held dear. The oppressed is now the oppressor. Everyone clear?"

Ian finished his summing up, and Aisling zoned out, not paying much attention to what Simon, the Assistant Director was telling everyone.

"You okay?" Heather whispered to Aisling from the seat on her right. Aisling nodded, and forced a smile "I'll be glad when today's over." Heather nodded and gripped her friend's hand under the table, squeezing it tightly "I'll be with you through every second of it."

*.*

"Is that you, Aiden?" Aisling walked to her mark by the table in the crowded farmhouse. It was a 'closed set', but that still meant ten to fifteen people – sound, lighting, camera crew, directors, wardrobe and others – trying to cram into the small space.

The scene had been rehearsed and choreographed to within an inch of it's life, and that, along with the couple of shots of vodka Heather had encouraged Aisling to throw back, was helping her nerves.

 

_I can do this. Thousands of actors have done it before, and thousands will do it again. Man up, Aisling._

 

"Things are worse here than they were in England, Aiden. I can't go on like this. I'm going to go back home."

He stepped toward her menacingly, and Aisling sniffed the air slightly "You were with her, weren't you?"

"What business is it of yours who I was with?" Andy bellowed in her face. "She's more a wife to me than you'd ever be, that's for certain! Look at you," he grabbed her chin roughly "nothing but a guttersnipe and a whore to the Union."

Aisling took a step back, Aiden took a step forward, reached out, and the carefully rigged nightgown ripped as he yanked the front of it away forcefully, exposing Aisling's body. Her right arm went up, as rehearsed, to try to grip the sides of the fabric together, and Andy took three steps forward, placed his hands on her shoulders, and pushed her to the floor.

_Wow, so Andy's actually started paying attention in rehearsals._

Aisling's hip collided with the dresser as she fell, causing her to land awkwardly. She was supposed to fall, and the camera would cut so she could brace herself on her arms, but Andy's shove came from a slightly different angle, and her feet had tangled in the hem of her nightgown so she couldn't protect herself from landing on the hard floor.

"And cut. Good job guys."

Aisling stood up, rubbing at her hip and thigh as Heather appeared with a bathrobe and wrapped it around her, ready to take her into the other room to prepare her for the next scene.

*.*

A small foam pad had been provided to protect Aisling's back from the wooden floor of the cabin, but it was still uncomfortable. The floor was hard against her elbows, thighs, and buttocks as she lay on the floor as Andy was positioned above her. He was wearing a flesh-colored pouch over his genitals, and Heather had helped her to position a modesty patch before fake pubic hair was added for historical accuracy. She had agreed to relax her waxing habits a little for filming, but wasn't willing to allow things to grow to nineteenth century dimensions, so extra 'bits' were added around the sides and front of her crotch. The Victorian pubic topiary hid her patch, which made editing easier, so everyone was happy.

Andy's breath stank. Whether he had eaten something disgusting to annoy her, or to help her with her feelings of revulsion, she wasn't sure. She turned her head to the side to avoid the sour stench and waited patiently for the lighting people to finish adjusting the hot lights overhead for the scene.

Aisling had been in situations like this before, with a man positioned over her, about to engage in simulated intimacy. In the past her attitude had been 'fuck it, it's awkward, let's get it over with and have a giggle while we do it', but this was different.

There was no fun, no quiet chats or jokes while lights and cameras were set, no gentle encouragement. Instead, Andy talked far too loudly to nobody in particular, and laughed repeatedly about having loosened the drawstring on his pouch because his hard-on would be too painful.

Heather shot a glance at Simon, the Assistant Director, but he was too busy talking to Ian to notice. She looked at Aisling, her large green eyes focused on the wall on the other side of the room, and wished she could punch Andy's stupid, arrogant face.

When the call came for Action, Andy's right hand went to Aisling's throat. On the count of three his left hand slid down, over her shoulder, to her breast, but instead of sliding his hand straight down to her thigh he paused to roughly grab her breast, digging his fingers painfully into the soft flesh there, before he carried on as directed.

His hands gripped her thighs and pulled them apart, and as he did so he bent his head down and bit her breast, hard. Aisling's eyes grew wide and panicked, and she gasped an unscripted 'No!"

This wasn't what had been agreed.

Then, as quickly as he'd bit her, he moved his mouth to her face, and she twisted away as rehearsed.

"No, Aiden, stop. Stop!" she shouted through his fingers as he clamped one hand down over her mouth and put his other hand between her legs. She felt his fingernails scrape at the tender flesh either side of the modesty patch, and tried to push his hand away. Whether it was Aisling or Ellen pushing him away she wasn't sure, but as he thrust his erection against her, simulating penetration, she didn't really care – she just wanted this to stop.

The slap to her face was harder than they'd rehearsed it too, and it stung her cheek.

When Ellen resigned herself to what was happening and stopped struggling, all the fight knocked out of her, she glared into Aiden's eyes, and at that moment it was Aisling and Andy, not their characters. He grinned at her as he panted above her, before 'Cut' was called.

"Great scene, Aisling. You ok?" Simon asked, as Heather pulled the robe around Aisling's pale and shaking body.

"Fine. It just felt… real" she shook her head as she prepared to leave the farmhouse, but then turned around to jab a finger at Andy "I want you to keep  _him_  away from me as much as possible. When this is finished I don't want to be within a fucking mile of him!"

Andy held his arms out wide, and stalked over to Aisling "What, you think that was real? Get a fucking grip, you stupid bitch. It's  _acting_. You're supposed to be a fucking  _actor_." He turned around and walked with a swagger towards the table where he took a drink of water and snorted as he jerked his head back towards her "You need to grow up a bit, love."

"Andy..." Simon said, cautiously, and stepped towards the actor with his hand held out towards him in a calming gesture "There's no need for that."

"Isn't there?" Andy whirled round, his penis and testicles jiggling in the little drawstring bag. Aisling would have found it funny if the moment wasn't so awful. "She just basically accused me of trying to fucking rape her!"

"I didn't!" Aisling spluttered, gripping the robe tightly around her "I said it felt too real. You were way rougher than we'd agreed, Andy! You bit me, for fucks sake!"

Andy leaned back against the table and smirked "I had to do something if I was to draw any kind of realistic reaction out of you. You couldn't emote if your fucking life depended on it."

"Oh, so now you decide to get all professional? We could have done with that a couple of months back, instead of you staggering around high as a kite!" Aisling shook as she shouted at Andy. As unpleasant as all this shouting was, it was also strangely cathartic.

"Okay, okay, that's enough!" Ian came back into the cottage, alerted by the raised voices. He looked at the pair with a mixture of frustration and despair and ran his hands through his thinning grey hair. "It was a difficult scene, I get it, but you can't be at each other's throats. I want both of you back here tomorrow, with this all behind you. Do I make myself clear?"

Aisling nodded, feeling like a naughty child being told off by a teacher, while Andy shrugged and wandered off, muttering "whatever."

*.*

Heather wiped the tears sliding down Aisling's cheeks with her discarded nightgown and wrapped her arms around her "C'mon, Ash, it's over. It's all behind you." she soothed, as she stroked her friend's hair. "Let's get you cleaned up, and get you home."

As the junior makeup girl silently, and nervously, cleaned Aisling's body of makeup and dabbed on the solvent to remove the artificial pubic hair, Heather handed Aisling a cigarette and a shot of vodka.

"That felt more real than it should have done, yeah?"

Aisling nodded. "Was he just trying to get the right reaction from me?"

Heather didn't know, and shook her head sadly "Your guess is as good as mine, sweetheart."

Shaking her head, Aisling sighed "He didn't do anything we didn't agree to – apart from biting my fucking tit – but, it just didn't feel right..."

She had done sex scenes before, and often actors improvised, or rolled with a feeling or an impulse, and that was generally fine. When you trusted the person you were doing the scene with, it didn't matter if it benefited the scene.

This didn't feel like acting though. It felt like it was about Andy exerting control over Aisling, not Aiden controlling Ellen.

Heather squeezed Aisling's hand as the makeup girl finished up between her legs, and left the trailer.

"Are you going to call Daryl?" Heather asked as she shook out the torn nightgown and put it on a hanger, after pinning the shredded front together. Nothing was ever thrown out in wardrobe if it could be re-used, and Heather was already thinking that she could pick the sleeves and use them to repair one of another actors costumes.

Aisling shook her head as she pulled on her shorts and reached for her sandals. "I just want to have a bath, and go to bed."

*.*

Heather drove Aisling home in her own car, while one of the show drivers followed behind in Aisling's Cherokee. The women were silent as they travelled, Heather realizing that Aisling, resting her head on the window and staring out at the dusk as they past, had a mind full of questions and feelings that she needed to process.

She'd tried to switch off into professional mode as she'd watched the man she'd grown to despise thrust against her friend. Having been present at the filming of many, many sex scenes she was used to keeping an eye on modesty patches, and any remaining costume, with a detached eye. The look of horror on Aisling's face, however, had made it impossible for her to remain dispassionate about what she was watching. This was her friend.

Film and television sets operated beyond the norms of the average work place. With naked people walking about, people simulating sex, touching each other's bodies, it was somewhere that the normal rules of interaction between colleagues were already warped.

Heather had been on a shoot once where the leading actor had ignored an actress he was supposed to film a sex scene later in the season for weeks, and this made the actress increasingly confused and upset. After they'd shot the scene, he revealed that he wanted her to feel uneasy around him when they filmed because it would lend authenticity to the moment.

Heather thought it was cruel, but the director had thought it genius.

At what point did encouraging a response go beyond what was acceptable? Was what had happened this afternoon sexual assault?

If someone walked up to her in the street and bit her breast, that would clearly be sexual assault. Debating with herself whether or not what had happened today was assault or not made her feel both disloyal to her friend, and womankind, but also feel like perhaps she wasn't being professional enough.

"Aisling?" she said quietly, as she turned into her road. Aisling turned to look at her, surprised to be home already, and nodded. "I don't know what the hell happened today, but I'm here for you if you want to talk about it, and I'll support you whatever you decide to do about it."

"Thanks, Heather." Aisling smiled, and squeezed her friend's hand on the steering wheel. "I don't know what to think either. I'll be fine though. I just need to… decompress, I guess."

*.*

"Oh!" Aisling was surprised to see Daryl's truck in her driveway, with the man in question leaning against the door, his arms folded across his chest. He looked up as he saw Heather's car and Aisling's truck come up the drive, and stood upright.

He'd called her a couple of times during the day, but her phone had gone straight to voicemail. It had been Shaun's idea to go to her house. He was useless at work, his mind focused on what Aisling was doing, and how she was feeling, rather than on his job. The thought of Andy's hands and mouth on his girl made him feel sick to his stomach, and a couple of times he'd gone to the bathroom thinking he was going to puke.

"Hey," she said quietly as she got out of Heather's car. "Have you been here long?"

He shook his head and waited at the door for her "Naw, not long." He was lying. He'd been waiting close to an hour, not having had any idea when she would be finishing up.

Her beautiful green eyes were rimmed with red, and she looked exhausted. "Just wanted to see how ya were, y'know… after today."

Aisling smiled and opened the front door to let them both in. She dumped her bag and the piles of multicolored paper she'd been holding on the desk and went to the kitchen without saying a word to Daryl, who hovered behind her, not sure what to do.

"Jesus, if ever I needed a drink..." she murmured, and pulled a bottle of wine from the rack. "Want one?" she asked, waggling a glass in his face. He nodded, and she poured two glasses for them both. Without sitting down, she downed her glass quickly and breathed out deeply, before she poured another and went into the living room.

Daryl followed, and sat beside her on the couch.

_Why ain't she talkin' to me?_

"Gonna tell me what happened?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

Aisling looked at him briefly, then put her glass on the table in front of them to unbuckle her sandals, and kicked them out to the side of the room.

"We did the scene. It went as well as I'd expected." Her voice was flat, she sounded tired.

Daryl bit at his lips, wondering what to say next. He didn't want to pry, but he wanted to make sure that she was okay… although she clearly wasn't okay.

"He hurt ya?" he asked as his eyes roamed over what pale skin he could see on her arms and legs. There was a small cut and the beginnings of a bruise blossoming on her thigh, just visible under the leg of her shorts, and as he saw it he felt his jaw tighten and his anger rise.

"He do that?" he reached out and moved the fabric up slightly, to allow him to see if the injury went any higher. It looked painful, but not serious.

"I fell funny… hit a table," she replied, taking a large gulp of wine, and stared down at the mark on her skin. "He bit me," her voice was quiet "on my breast. It hurt."

Daryl put his glass down on the table and moved closer to her, his face full of concern. Anger flashed in his blue eyes as he reached for the edge of her t-shirt to lift it up.

Aisling pulled back, having been pawed at quite enough for one day. "Show me," he growled.

She lifted her t-shirt, and pulled back the cup on her bra enough for Daryl to see the oval of red punctuated teeth marks on her chest.

"What the fuck, Ash?" he shouted, as she rearranged her t-shirt again to cover herself.

"He said he did it to get a reaction out of me, because I can't act… but it didn't feel like he was acting." She reached out for her wine glass and took another drink, studiously avoiding Daryl's eyes as they darted over her face.

Aisling was tired, on edge, and had had enough of male posturing for one day. She knew exactly what Daryl's reaction would be, and in her highly-strung state she wondered if he would be more angry that someone had marked his property than that she had been put through an emotional wringer.

"Why the hell'd you do it?" he stood up, and began pacing the room.

"Here we go..." Aisling muttered, and drained her wine glass. "Do what, Daryl?" she asked, flatly, turning to fix her stare at him.

"You let pricks put their hands all over you then go cryin' when things don't turn out as fuckin' arty as you'd like them to be! It's like you're askin' for it," he spat.

"This another way of getting' attention, huh?"

Aisling continued to stare at him, not saying anything.

"Some rich bitch flauntin' herself like a fuckin' whore on television to make Mommy and Daddy sit up and take notice? Poutin' and cryin' when it don't go exactly how she thought?"

Daryl's mouth was spitting out words that his brain wasn't even processing. It was like his voice belonged to someone else, and this other person was hell-bent on hurting Aisling as much as possible. Everything he'd learned about his emotions and how to deal with them this past couple of months with Aisling flew out the window. His concern and helplessness translated to anger, which had always been easier than admitting that he cared.

"Are you blaming me for what happened, Daryl?" Aisling asked, her voice calm, quiet and cold.

He spun around and walked quickly towards where she sat on the couch and leaned forward, pointing his finger accusingly at her "Maybe if you weren't constantly lying around with your damn ass hangin' out this wouldn't have happened!"

Aisling stood up, pushing his hand away from in front of her face, and walked into the kitchen to refill her glass. Daryl followed her, wanting her to speak, but too out of control to do anything other than provoke a reaction from her.

"Truth hurts, huh?" he snarled, as she put the cork back in the bottle and took another drink. Her large green eyes met his, but he couldn't be sure if they shone with anger or sadness.

"If you're working on a car in the garage, and someone reverses over you, that's your fault for being in the garage, yeah?" she asked, her voice shaking. "And if someone shoots you in the forest, that's your fault for hunting, is it?"

"Ain't the same thing..." he started, dismissing her argument with a wave of his hand.

"It is the same fucking thing, Daryl!" she shouted, making him jump slightly. "How fucking dare you blame me for this! Get out!" Aisling pointed at the door, and stepped towards him to let him know that she meant what she said.

"Fine!" he yelled back and lashed out with his arm, accidentally knocking her wine glass from her hand to the floor where it shattered and stained the tile with purple "Fuck off back to London, see if I care!"

He stomped off towards the front door, and he already knew that he was hopelessly, and utterly wrong before his hand even met the handle. Stubbornness and anger propelled him on though, and he started up his truck and screeched out of her driveway, gravel spitting up behind his tyres as he went.

*.*

Aisling sat on the floor of the kitchen, dabbing at the wine with some paper towels, but unable to really see what she was doing through the tears which flooded her eyes and ran down her cheeks, off her chin, and pooled with the wine on the floor. As her sobs subsided, she tried to put together what had just happened.

She had closed herself off, and that hadn't helped, but Daryl had just exploded on her, and his words stung her as though he had calculated what exactly to say to get right to her and hurt her the most.

_Fucking arse! Why is this happening? Why did he behave like such a prick? I didn't want it to end like this._

She wiped her eyes and cheeks on the hem of her t-shirt, carefully picked up all the glass that had shattered and wrapped it up in an old newspaper. Then she stood up, and took a deep breath.

Sitting on the floor crying wouldn't achieve anything.

_You were leaving anyway, Aisling. It's sad that you can't leave as friends, or without him calling you a whore and a bitch who deserved what she got, but life is life, and we need to roll with it._

No matter what she told herself about dealing with it, hearing those words come from the mouth of the man she thought she loved was like a smack in the face. She hadn't been totally sure how he'd felt, but she would never have guessed that this was it, and it hurt so much.

Letting out one last juddering breath, she put the paper with the glass in it on the counter, dried the floor with a piece of kitchen paper, and switched off the lights. She was going to have a bath, scrub off today, and go to bed. Tomorrow wasn't likely to be an awful lot better, after today's screaming match on set, despite what Ian had said.

.

.

She put the phone in it's charger, checked the back door and headed for the stairs when the front door was flung open, and Daryl stood there.

His chest was heaving, and his eyes were wild. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and closed the door behind him.

"Y'oughta get that damn door fixed" he grunted, before he walked towards her.

"You've made your feelings perfectly clear, Daryl. I'd like you to leave please."

Aisling tried to keep her voice calm, but she knew that he could probably hear the tremble in it.

What was he going to do? Why had he come back? Was it to shout at her some more?

"Shut up," he said quietly, walking towards her with his index finger pointed at her "That's the whole damn point. I ain't made my feelin's clear at all. Ain't no good at all this."

He stood in front of Aisling, close enough to see her chest rising and falling quickly, and to smell the wine she'd been drinking and he'd spilt all over her feet.

Taking a deep breath, and running his hand through his hair he continued "I know I ain't some arty fuckin' intellectual who can talk about their feelin's and shit, but it don't mean that I ain't got none."

He reached out for her hand, but she stepped away, leaving his hand to hang in mid-air before he let it drop to his side.

With a frustrated sigh, he continued "I don't blame you, I didn't mean what I said. Was angry… know it ain't your fault. I ain't angry with you, I'm angry with that jackass Andy, an' with the whole fuckin' situation. I'm sorry."

Aisling thought that this was possibly the most Daryl had ever said to her in one go. She stayed silent, watching him as he began to pace the room, walking over to the desk, then back to her, then over to the couch.

_This all sounded a lot fuckin' better in my damn head._

He came close to her again and grabbed her hands in his, holding them tight while he bit his lips again, thinking.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," he said, quiet now. "You're the only person I ever cared about, 'cept Merle an' my friends. Feel things I ain't never felt before."

He paused to draw breath and lick his lips quickly, before he continued "Got feelin's for you I ain't got for no one else… ain't never had for no one neither."

Aisling couldn't help the snort that escaped her, as she shook her head "Well lucky old Merle, Shaun and Chuck! Do you call them whores and bitches too, or is it just because we've fucked I get that extra special honor?"

She looked everywhere in the room but at Daryl, avoiding those intense blue eyes that pleaded with her to believe his apology.

_I've fucked this up too much to get it back. Don't waste your breath, Daryl, you've killed it. This thing with Ash is dead n'gone._

Daryl panicked, fear rising up his throat like bile, and with it came words that tumbled out of his mouth as he still clasped her tiny hands in his.

"This ain't about fuckin' or kissin' or any of that shit, Ash. This is my insides hurtin' when I think about ya leavin' me. I don't wanna ever let ya outta my sight." He shook his head, and released her hands to catch her face, and held her where she had to look at him.

"Don't know how the hell I'm gonna cope when ya go. Hell, I ain't no damn good with feelins. Don't want ya to go."

For the first time in ages, Daryl was genuinely terrified. His hands shook as he held Aisling's face, forcing her to look at him. He'd spilled out everything. She didn't know the power she had over him.

He was babbling now "Please, Ash, please, don't leave me. Don't go. Please…." his voice got higher as it shook, pleading with her "Please stay w'me, sweetheart?"

Daryl's hands abruptly fell from her face. He spun around and returned to pacing the room as Aisling stood silently, watching him.

She didn't know what to say. His pleas were everything she'd ever wanted to hear from him, but at the same time as her heart soared and she wanted to reach out and kiss him she was still wounded by his words.

How would this work?

She would just move across the world to be with a man she'd known a few weeks, who she thought she loved but who called her a whore because he was angry?

It didn't make any sense. If one of her friends had told her that she planned to do the same thing, she'd have done her best to talk them out of it.

But at the same time, she felt something else. That this was something worth fighting for.

Daryl interpreted Aisling's lengthy silence as negative, and as he turned to go he said "last thing you need is some emotionally retarded redneck telli-"

"I want to stay" Aisling interrupted him, quietly. Her eyes caught his across the room, and she bit her lip nervously. "I don't want to go, but this..." she gestured between them "this fighting is too much. I love you, but I couldn't take any more of this."

"Ain't gonna happen again," he said quickly, closing the space between them to take her hands in his again. "I promise, gonna try so hard not to just get..." his mind caught up with what Aisling had just said.

"Ya love me?"

She nodded, not bashfully, not shyly, but honestly, her green eyes shining in the darkening room.

"I love you," she repeated "I've been falling in love with you since I first met you, Daryl."

He didn't know what to say. A million words bubbled up in his throat, but he knew that none of them would come out making any sense. His hands went up to her face, and the rough pads of his thumbs rubbed away the tears that had slipped from the corners of her eyes.

"Love ya too, Ash," he whispered as he leaned his forehead against hers, and tried to blink back the tears that stung his eyes and threatened to spill out. "Will ya stay with me, sweetheart?"

Aisling nodded, silently, but smiled as much as she could through her tears and mumbled "Yes, I'll stay. I mean, I have to go, but I'll come back."

Daryl crushed his mouth to hers, not caring now about the tears that escaped and slid down his cheeks, mingling with hers. She was going to stay! He held her tight, and whispered "I love you" as he kissed her face a million times.

"Will you stay with me tonight, Daryl?" she murmured, against the little mole beside his mouth.

They went to bed, and didn't even bother to undress, instead just pulling the covers around them.

Daryl pulled her body close to his, and let out a slow, wavering sigh as he took in what had just happened.

She loved him.

She was staying.


	25. Chapter 25

I don't own Daryl or Merle, and everything else is make believe. 

Thank you for reading!  
*.*

 

The first rays of light were just starting to filter into the bedroom when Daryl woke, alone in Aisling's bed. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and looked around for a sign of the woman who, unbelievably, he could still call 'his girl' today, after his atrocious behavior yesterday. On the nightstand sat a folded piece of white paper, with his name written in neat slanted script across the front. He stretched out his arm and grabbed it, hoping it didn't say something like 'I changed my mind, asshole'. 

“Morning! I have an early call time. You looked peaceful, didn't want to wake you. Come round when you finish work – I'll cook. Bring your toothbrush. Love A x”

He smiled to himself as he folded the note and lay back with his hands behind his head. 

...Love A x

He'd never told anyone he loved them before. Hell, he had never felt anything approaching love for anyone before. Then in walked this girl who turned his life upside down, and he loved the very bones of her. And, miraculously, she loved him too.

*.*

 

Chuck wiped his hands on a rag and nudged Shaun with his elbow as he nodded his head over towards Daryl. The two men watched their friend clip the cover back on a Honda's air filter and toss his wrench lightly in his hand with a smile on his face. As he closed the hood he whistled a vague, indistinguishable tune, then ran a rag quickly across the metal before he tossed the wrench in his hand again and looked around for his next job.

“What?” he grunted, noticing his friends smirking at him. 

“Someone's happy,” Shaun smiled and turned to Chuck “You ever hear Dixon whistlin' before?”

“Can't say as I have, Shaun, no. Now what do you suppose has him so downright perky today?”

Daryl snorted, the corner of his lips twitching up in a half smile, and shook his head “Shut up.”

“Things goin' well in Daryl 'n' Aisling Land, I take it?” Shaun asked, flicking through a clipboard of job sheets.

“Yup.” Daryl nodded, and walked over to see what jobs on the clipboard he could get done before he left for the day.   
Shaun held it behind his back and shook his head “I'm gonna have Cori on my ass lookin' for a lot more information than that.”

Daryl chewed at the skin by his thumbnail and debated whether or not to tell his friends what had happened last night. He wasn't used to sharing details of his life, but this was big news, to him anyway, and it wasn't a secret, so he guessed there was no harm in sharing, this once.   
“Aisling's stayin'.”

“That's great man!” Chuck smiled and high-fived Daryl, who hoped his face wasn't as red as it felt. Shaun slapped Daryl on the back and grinned “Ya' asked her to stay?” Daryl just nodded and went over to the Honda and started putting tools away, embarrassed by the attention.

“Aw, hell,” Shaun sighed “I hope Cori doesn't start plannin' a load of damn dinner parties now.”

*.*

Aisling carried her bags of shopping from the car into the house, singing the Stevie Nicks song that had just been playing on the car radio.   
“But the moment...” she sang, and bumped her hip against the door to push it open further to allow her in with the bags.   
“That I first laid...” she wiggled her hips as she went into the kitchen   
“Eyes… on… him.” 

Even though Daryl was far, far away from being anywhere near the edge of seventeen, the song reminded her of him. He was indisputably all man, but there was a childlike quality to him that she could sometimes catch a glimpse of through cracks in his gruff exterior, and last night he had allowed her to see it in all it's vulnerable beauty when he'd pleaded with her to stay with him. 

“Oooh, baby, oooh, said oooh” Aisling thrust her hips lightly as she sang, and smiled to herself as an image of Daryl's face, glistening with sweat as he pushed himself into her body came into her mind. She bit her bottom lip a moment and enjoyed the image, before she shook her head slightly and finished up packing the groceries away, singing softly as she went.

Today had been a good day.  
Despite the lecture on trust she'd received from Ian, the tiny hangover she'd woken up with after all she had drunk the night before, the paparazzo who had snuck in via the back fence and was wrangled off set by security, Andy skulking around with a face like a smacked arse, and the bruises she'd got while she was dragged out of the farmhouse by soldiers on her way to prison, she was happy.   
The scene she'd been dreading was over and done with, Daryl had told her that he loved her, and she had told him that she was going to come back to him.

Nothing was going to bring her down today. 

She had told Jamie, Stuart, Heather, and Sarah her change of plans over lunch. Heather had held her close in a hug and told her that it was the best decision she'd ever made. Stuart gave a fatherly nod of approval, before grabbing her into another hug that threatened to squeeze all the air from her lungs. Sarah had squealed, and Jamie had smiled, trying to put his prejudiced opinion of Daryl as a no-good redneck out of his mind. 

As she'd sat in makeup she had drawn up a list of things she needed to do: sort out somewhere to stay, book flights, tell her friends, extend the rental lease on her properties, inform her agent, call her bank… the list grew until she had filled almost two sides of the page with her small, neat handwriting. As she drove home she remembered 'family', and laughed to herself. Her Mum and Dad wouldn't give a shit, but her brothers might… she mentally added them to the list.

*.* 

Daryl had just turned around from closing the door of his truck outside Aisling's house when the little brunette barrelled at him, running out from the side of the house, wrapping her arms around his neck and assaulting his lips with a bruising kiss. 

“Woah...” he mumbled against her mouth as he got his balance, before he settled in to enjoy the sensation of her tongue sliding alongside his. The kiss softened, and she sucked lightly on his lower lip. “I missed you” she whispered against his mouth, and his stomach twisted with pleasure. 

Scooping his hands underneath her beautiful ass, he lifted her up so that she could wrap her legs around his waist and carried her back into the yard, placing her gently on the table so that they could continue kissing.   
The sensation of her full lips moving against his never failed to make him as dizzy as they had that first time, when she'd cupped his chin in her hand and kissed him at the plantation. His hands went to the back of Aisling's head, curling his fingers in the long dark strands of her hair as he pulled her face closer, kissing her hungrily.

“Missed you too” he murmured, and took her earlobe between her lips and pulled softly.

“Still want me to stay?” her voice was quiet, sultry, as his tongue slid down her soft skin to the crook of her neck. 

“Yeah,” he managed to groan, his voice low and filled with desire “Don't ever want ya to leave. Love ya.”

“Good, because I'm very happy,” she whispered “right….” her hands slipped down from his neck, down his back to his butt, which she squeezed, pulling him closer “….here.”

They made out like teenagers, mouths wet and searching, breath heavy. Daryl's large, rough hands slid up her soft thighs under her white sun dress, moving over her bra, but she gently pushed his hands back down again. “Later,” she whispered “let's eat first.”

Fuck, don't ever wanna stop this.

Daryl growled in frustration against her throat, but released his hold on her and helped her down from the table. She pressed a chaste kiss to his lips in thanks, and smiled “You know me and food, Daryl. It's not wise to get between us.”

It wasn't that Aisling wanted to stop what was happening. She loved the feel of his lips on hers, his hands on her skin, but she wanted to talk and she knew that if she let their passion take hold she wouldn't be in the right frame of mind for an honest conversation with him.

She led him into the house by the hand. “Here,” she spun a package of grape tomatoes across the counter towards him “would you halve the tomatoes for me?”

He popped one into his mouth, and as he looked in the drawer for a sharp knife his mouth felt out the word she had just said “Tuh...mah… toe” he said slowly, trying it out. Aisling looked at him curiously “Are you making fun of my accent, Daryl Dixon?”

“I like your accent,” he smiled, glancing over at her from underneath the bangs that had fallen in his eyes “S' sexy. 'Sides, you're always doin' my accent. I'm just tryin' out yours.”

Aisling laughed as she chopped up the ingredients for the vinaigrette “Go on then. Try some more. How about...” she thought for a moment “...water. Go on, say water.”

Daryl indulged Aisling as she called out words for him to attempt in a, truly awful, Irish accent, but drew the line when she tried to get him to speak actual Irish words. “I don't make you fix cars, do I?” he grumbled “You're the actor.”

“About that,” she said, and glanced across at him “I'm going to have to travel quite a bit for work, you know? Goat Rock doesn't exactly have a thriving movie or television industry, so I'll be away a lot.” 

Daryl nodded, and watched Aisling nervously bite her top lip as she waited for his reaction. He knew that she would have to travel for work, but knowing that she would return again was something he hoped would anchor him during those times apart.   
“I know. So long as ya always come back to me, that's all that matters.”

“Really? You're okay with it? I'll be here lots, but there'll be times when you won't see me for weeks, or months.” Aisling wasn't trying to put Daryl off, but she wanted him to be clear about what being with her meant. She loved her work, and counted her blessings that it was plentiful at the moment, but it wasn't a regular 9-5 job and she knew that relationships with people outside the industry could be… difficult. What she had with Daryl was so special, and so important to her, she didn't want him to enter into it with his eyes closed, and have it all fall apart when he realized what her life was like.

“Tryin' to get me to change my mind?” he squinted over at her as he passed the bowl of tomatoes across the counter and leaned on his elbow, facing her. He couldn't tell what she was thinking. 

She havin' second thoughts on all this? Why's she tellin' me about the bad shit? Why ain't she concentratin' on the good stuff?

“Shit, no!” her head jerked up to look at him, and she wiped her hands on a towel before she stepped towards him and held his face in her hands to look into those beautiful blue eyes.   
“I want this so much, Daryl, you have no idea. I'm moving halfway across the world to be closer to you. I just want you to know what it is you're getting into.”

“Ain't stupid, Ash,” he reached up and held her hands in his, smoothing his rough fingers across her knuckles “I know you ain't gonna be around all the time. Hell, I don't see ya as much as I want an' you're only workin' down the road, but it makes the times I do see ya all the better, y'know?”

Aisling nodded. She felt the same way. Daryl pulled her close, and wrapped his strong arms around her as he placed a gentle kiss on her forehad. “C'mon, let's eat. Don't wanna keep ya from your food, sweetheart.”

*.*

Daryl stared down at the plate of steak salad and Aisling giggled at the barely disguised look of confusion on his face. “Leaves? You're feedin' me leaves?”

“And steak!” she said, helpfully, waving her finger over his plate. “It's good!”

He shot her a 'whatever' look and cautiously speared a piece of meat and a couple of leaves with his fork, before shoveling them into his mouth. 

Shit. Actually is good. Huh, who'd have thought a Dixon would enjoy eatin' leaves.

Daryl nodded as he chewed, and held his thumb up in approval. “Told you so,” Aisling smirked, and smiled as she watched him eat. 

“So,” she said, idly chewing on a piece of steak as she thought about all the things she had to do “got any thoughts on where I'm going to live?”

He hadn't given much thought to the logistics of her move, having been too caught up in the idea of her actually staying, but in the back of his mind he'd assumed that she would live with him. It didn't make much sense for them to have two separate places, seeing as how he stayed with her most nights anyway, and he was a little disappointed that she wasn't thinking the same thing.

“Dunno,” he shrugged, trying not to let his frustration show “what's wrong with this place?” 

“Nothing, I guess. I suppose I could extend the lease for a while, until we know what we're doing.”

“Huh? Whaddya mean, 'what we're doing'?”

Aisling looked up from her plate with a startled expression on her face “Shit, I'm sorry. I just kind of assumed we'd live together. I didn't even ask you… I just jumped in-”

Daryl silenced her by pressing a finger to her lips, and gave her one of his little half smiles “Kinda assumed the same thing. Ain't gotta apologise.”

“So you'd be happy with us living together?” she mumbled against his finger, and bit the corner of her bottom lip in a way that made him want to sweep the plates off the table and fuck her right there and then.

“Real happy, Ash. Can't think of nothin' that would make me happier.”

 

*.*

 

“Aww, fuck, yeah” Daryl groaned as he watched Aisling run her pink tongue across the head of his dick, as though it was the most delicious lollipop in the world. Time had escaped them as they made out on the couch, and as kisses got sloppier, hands explored, and clothes were discarded somewhere nearby, Daryl found himself wondering what he'd ever done to deserve this? How the hell had he gotten so lucky? She was the hottest girl he'd ever met, she loved him, and she was going to live with him.   
And the sex? The sex was like nothing he'd ever imagined. Her soft, smooth skin against his, the feel of her tongue as it flickered and teased, the feeling when he was pushing inside her and she would pulse around him as she came undone.

He'd often wondered if this was all too good to be true, and if something would happen to either bring her to her senses or keep them apart, but as the thought again crept like smoke into his brain, he shook his head to clear it. 

“C'mere, Sweetheart,” he gently pulled her up to lay on his chest and assaulted her lips with a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. “Ain't never gonna stop lovin' you,” he rasped against her mouth “y'hear me, Ash. Yer mine, an' I'm yours.”


	26. Chapter 26

 

The following week flew by at an incredible rate.

Aisling filmed her death scene, as Ellen succumbed to a greatly sanitized-for-television bout of Typhus, alone on a filthy straw mattress in a prison cell.

The relief she felt when the final cut was called and she was able to leave Ellen behind, was indescribable. She loved the cast and crew, but Andy had ripped all the joy and pleasure from the job that she'd previously enjoyed going to every day. For years now she had looked forward to resuming filming on Wild Geese each season, but all that had changed with Andy's addiction.

 

The cast and crew gathered around the scruffy yard of the prison – which was in real life an old disused building on the plantation site - in the hot Georgia sun as Ian presented her with a big bouquet, and a framed original letter from an Irish woman in Georgia to her family back home in October 1862, to remind her of her time on the show, and the women like Ellen whose stories would never be told.

 

Aisling felt tears well up in her eyes as she gave a little speech about how much she was going to miss everyone, and how privileged she felt to have been able to tell Ellen's story. As she looked around the faces of the people she'd come to regard almost as a family, she bit back the resentment that bubbled up when she realized how much Andy had spoiled it for her.

 

Everyone hugged and took pictures, and a few tears were shed as she closed the door on Ellen and her life on the show. The wrap party was on Friday, so she would see most of them there, but there was always something symbolic about that last shoot when somebody left. Wild Geese was the longest series Aisling had ever worked on, and she'd seen many other actors come and go. This time, it was her own departure, and it felt strangely unreal.

 

*.*

 

 

“I kissed Merle,” Heather said quietly as she helped her friend pack up the personal items from her trailer. There were photos pinned to the wall, gifts from fans, a refrigerator stocked with nothing but peppermint soap and pots of body lotion, all being packed into boxes and bags that they'd got from the production office.   

 

“What? When?” Aisling spluttered, her head jerking up from sorting through the pile of mail she had allowed to accumulate on the little table where the television sat.

 

Heather laughed, and busied herself unpacking Aisling's closet in the trailer, folding her clothes carefully and laying them in the leather holdall that sat on the floor. “We met for a drink on Friday, and I drank a bit too much… anyway, he took me home and next thing I knew, bam! We were necking like kids at church camp.”

 

Aisling released an involuntary snort of laughter and clamped her hand over her nose and mouth.

 

“Yeah, go ahead, laugh. I did too… until we did it again on Sunday when I was stone cold sober.” Heather shook her head in disbelief at how she'd fallen for the elder Dixon's questionable charms, and waited for Aisling to say something.

 

“What does he kiss like?” she asked, curious. She knew from what Daryl had told her that Merle liked to spend time with women, but she couldn't for the life of her picture him in any kind of intimate situation, not that she had admittedly spent a lot of time trying. He was just big, rough, vulgar, and occasionally charming, Merle.

 

“That man has strong lips. I swear, he could have lifted me up with them if he had a mind to...” Heather drifted off as she thought back to how Merle had made her weak at the knees.

 

“Mad kissing skills must be a Dixon trait,” Aisling giggled, and nudged Heather with her elbow. “So, are you seeing him again? What's happening?”

 

Heather sighed “I don't know. He's so wrong for me. If you had to write a description of the worst man in the world to fall for, it would be Merle Dixon… but, he's got under my skin I guess.”

*.*

 

 

Loud music and flowing alcohol transformed the normally staid and calm L'Oiseau Sauvage restaurant in Newnan on Friday night, as the cast and crew of Wild Geese gathered for this season's wrap party. Andy hadn't shown up, so everyone was able to relax and enjoy themselves, but nobody was more relieved by his no-show than Aisling was.

 

Themed cocktails, created especially for the night, were served behind the bar by waiters brought in from Atlanta, more used to serving at achingly hip City soirées perhaps, than the raucous assortment of people crowded in here to let their hair well and truly down.

Aisling couldn't remember what exactly was in The Union Whore, but she liked the cocktail a lot and declared them delicious.

Heather, who had developed quite a taste for the vodka based Plantation Passions, brought her over another as she flicked through the list of karaoke songs available with Stuart.

 

"Aaah, come on Stuart, live a little!"

 

"I'm not singing Lady Gaga, Ash!"

 Eventually they settled on 'Livin' On A Prayer' and took the mics, making quite the odd couple as the older cameraman yelled out the lyrics beside the petite young actress.

 

There were more cocktails, more singing, even more cocktails, but around the time Simon and Ian lined up Flaming Sambuca shots for everyone along the bar things started to get a little fuzzy.

 

*.*

 

“Good Lord!" Daryl muttered as Aisling, Heather and Sarah tumbled out of their cab in front of Aisling's house in the early hours of Saturday morning, all arms and legs and hair. When he, Merle and Chuck had waved the three women off on Friday evening they were all styled and composed, makeup applied, discussing amongst themselves how they weren't going to drink too much, and wouldn't be back too late.

 

The three screeching creatures that emerged from the cab were bedraggled shadows of their former selves. Sarah was missing a shoe, and Heather had a plastic goose dangling from her head, tangled in the side of her blonde hair.

 

“What the fuck happened to our women?” Merle called out, and let out a loud laugh “Any of you three drunken messes see ’em anywhere?”

 

“Daaaaaaryl!” Aisling squealed and tried to run toward him, but tripped over her feet and would have landed face first on the gravel drive if he hadn't grabbed her, his quick reflexes kicking in. 

“Thank you,” she hiccuped against his chest, and smoothed her hands along the fabric of his t-shirt as she stretched up to whisper conspiratorially in his ear “my legs have gone all wonky.”

 

“That right?” he smiled down at her, and smoothed her hair with his hands. 

She nodded, a deeply serious expression on her lipstick smudged face, and hiccuped again.

 

_How the hell can someone so drunk be so fuckin' cute?_

Chuck stuffed Sarah back into his car after she escaped and tried to run into Aisling's house, and Merle helped a very confused Heather into Daryl's truck, reassuring her that, yes, those were her legs and, no, nobody had swapped them.

“I'll get the truck back to ya tomorrow, lil brother,” he called out the window as he drove off, and Daryl was just able to hear him shout “If you're gonna puke, tell me an' I'll stop” at the woman in the passenger side as he went down the drive.

 

He looked down at Aisling, her eyes closed as she leaned against his chest, and scooped her up into his arms. 

_It'd take all fuckin' night tryin' to get her to walk in on her own._

 

He sat her on the couch, and fetched her a big glass of water. “Gotta drink this, sweetheart,” he urged her as he knelt on the floor in front of her “won't feel so bad tomorrow if ya do.”

 She smiled lopsidedly at him, but did as he asked and drank the water, handing the empty glass back for him to set on the table.

 

“What did you an' Merle an' Chuck do tonight?” she asked, slurring slightly as she played with the neck of his t-shirt.

 “Watched a movie, ate pizza, waited for you three to get your drunk asses back.”

 

Aisling leaned over and smushed her mouth against his. She tasted of every alcoholic drink he could think of, and he smirked against her lips as he realized quite how bad her hangover would be in the morning.

“Will you take me to bed, Daryl? I want sexy times,” she hiccuped again, against the mole by his mouth and stuck her tongue out to lick it but missed and ran her tongue up towards his nose.

 

Trying not to laugh at his poor, drunken girl, Daryl nodded. “I'll take ya up to bed now, Ash,” and pulled her into his arms as gently as he could. She was asleep by the time he got to the stairs, drooling slightly against his t-shirt. “You're such a happy drunk, darlin'” he whispered and kissed her forehead as he carried her up to her bed.

 

She snored and never woke as he undressed her. At one point, as he rolled her onto her stomach to unzip her dress, then clumsily pulled it up over her head, she had started to sing what sounded like Bon Jovi, before she quieted down again and he undressed to climb into bed beside her.

He watched her sleep for a while, thinking how tonight was so different from his interactions with drunk women in the past. This was his girl. He wanted to take care of her.

 

*.*

 

At some time during the night someone had crept into Aisling's bedroom, sawn off the top of her head, and filled the cavity where her brain should be with scrunched up newspaper. That's how it felt at least when she awoke to a crushing pain in her head and a tongue so dry it felt like leather when she poked at it with her fingers.

 

“Urrrrghhhhhhhh,” she groaned, quietly, and turned around to crawl into Daryl's warm body. Daryl would make it all alright. She whimpered as he pulled her towards his warm body, wrapping his muscular arms around her, and kissed her forehead.

 “Feel bad, huh, Sweetheart?” he rasped, not quite awake yet. He stroked her hair tenderly as she mumbled something unintelligible into his throat.

 “You were so fuckin' drunk,” he laughed quietly, rubbing his face against her soft dark hair, and looked down at her pale, panda-eyed face. She had fallen asleep again, clinging to him like one of the koala bears he'd seen on the Discovery Channel. He pulled the covers around them and slipped off into sleep himself for another couple of hours.

 

*.*

 

“How the hell did we end up babysittin' these drunken women, baby brother?” Merle laughed on the other end of the phone as Daryl sat on the back porch and smoked a cigarette, “That lil' colleen of yours doin' okay this mornin'?”

 

“Still asleep. Thought I'd let her sleep it off as much as she could.” He had left her with a fresh glass of water, a couple of Advil for when she woke up, and a gentle kiss on her temple.

 

“Heather's already yacked up lord knows what in the bathroom. Even held back her hair while she did it.” Daryl could hear Merle scrub his hand over his face before he continued “Reckon I'm getting' pussy whipped like you, Darylina?”

 Daryl snorted “Ain't pussy whipped, Merle. S'called 'not bein' a jackass'.”

 

 


	27. Chapter 27

Daryl reluctantly disentangled himself from Aisling's arms, his bladder full to bursting, and showered, then changed into fresh clothes. He had begun to take a change of clothes when he stayed with her, which was almost every night now, and as he pulled on his jeans he looked at the drawer in her bedroom and thought about having his clothes next to hers, in their house. Such a little thing, and yet it made such warmth spread out through his body from his stomach that he couldn't help smiling to himself.

He quietly left the room, leaving Aisling snoring softly on the bed, and padded downstairs. He picked up the stuff she'd thrown all over the sitting room last night so the place would be tidy when she emerged, and she wouldn't be likely to fall over something. A shoe was flung over by the desk, the other by the couch where her stockings dangled off the arm. Her purse was abandoned in the middle of the floor and another small plastic goose, like the one Heather had stuck in her hair, was laying nearby.

_Girl's almost as fuckin' messy as Merle. Expect I'll be picking up her shit all the time when we're livin' together._

Daryl hated tidying up after Merle. His brother was a pig. He didn't mind picking up Aisling's stuff though. In fact, he found her untidiness kind of cute, and there was something hot about the idea of finding her clothes draped around the house, especially if he was the one who got to take them off her in the first place.

When he heard her footsteps upstairs he put her coffee machine on, and got some bacon and eggs from the refrigerator.

Aisling appeared in the doorway of the kitchen like the girl in The Ring. Her long dark hair hung down around her face, and she groaned quietly as she squinted into the sunlit room.

“Feeling bad, huh, Sweetheart?” he asked as he steered her over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair for her to sit down. She nodded, looking tiny and pitiful.  
Handing her a cup of coffee, he paused to gently stroke her hair.

“Ya look like shit, Ash,” he laughed softly as he kissed the top of her head, then went over to the hob to make her some breakfast.

“Thanks. That helps a lot,” she grumbled, and clutched the cup he'd given her as she sipped at the precious life-giving elixir.

“Still love ya though,” he shot back over his shoulder, and Aisling smiled to herself, watching the hottest man she'd ever met cook her breakfast. Her eyes slipped over his broad shoulders, to his slim waist and hips, before landing on that gorgeous tight little ass of his. It was all she could do to stay in her seat and not go over to grab two big handfuls of that sexy bum, but he'd been so good to her and she didn't want to inflict her hungover brewery-breath and morning-after horniness on him. Instead, she just enjoyed the view as he moved around her kitchen.

A ping from her phone distracted her from her ogling, so she picked it up from the table – where she had no recollection of leaving it – and glanced at the twitter notification. Daryl almost dropped the plates he'd got from the cupboard as Aisling shrieked loudly behind him.

“What?” he asked, rushing to her side, “You okay?” Was she hurt? What had happened?

Aisling clutched her phone breathlessly to her chest, her cheeks pink.

_What the hell's she seen on that phone?_

“No, no, nooooooo….” she pleaded, giggling as she tried to keep the phone from his grasp, but he took it nonetheless and squinted at the tweet she'd received a reply to.

At some point the night before Aisling had tweeted a blurry picture of her lips, with the caption “fuccking lovve sexy darly yumn arms” accompanied by a heart, and for some reason, a pig emoji. Daryl snorted and laughed, reading through a couple of the thousands of comments, which were mostly things like “OMG You will be so embarrassed tomorrow!” or “LOL Lucky Darly! ;)”

Aisling laid her head on the table and whimpered. “Can you just kill me now please, Daryl? Take me out into the forest with your crossbow and put an arrow through my head?”

“S'a bolt, not an arrow. An' I ain't givin' you a get-out from the 'sexy darly' fallout. Hell, no! Gonna watch you squirm, girl!” he shook his head and smiled his gorgeous little half smile at her before he turned back to dish up the bacon and eggs “Ya made your bed, darlin'.”

Daryl was bursting with pride, and puffed up his chest a little as he served up their breakfast. She'd told the world she loved him, and even though she'd called him 'Darly' he was pleased as punch.

As they ate, Aisling told Daryl what she remembered about the night before, showing him lots of terrible out of focus photographs on her phone.  
“What's this one of yer feet about?” he asked around a mouthful of bacon, pointing at a blurry picture of her shoes and the floor on the phone display.

She shrugged “No idea.”  
Memories began to come back to her as she ate “I kind of remember trying to steal some flowers off a table. I think I shoved them in my dress...” she buried her head in her hands as she remembered snippets of the evening.

“Explains the smashed up flowers an' shit that fell on the bed when I got ya undressed” Daryl nodded, as he ate. “Got stuck by a thorn right near my balls in the middle of the night, surprised ya didn't wake up with my yellin'.”  
Aisling pulled the neck of her t-shirt out and peered down at her breasts. Sure enough, they were stained with smudges of red and purple, and she had a few tiny scratches there too.

“I am never, ever drinking again,” she groaned, and forked some eggs into her mouth miserably.  
Daryl snorted and shook his head, smiling a little, and carried on eating.

When they'd finished eating he cleared away the plates, stacked them in the dishwasher and piled the pans in the sink. Then, he gathered her in his arms and carried her into the living room, where he dumped her on the couch, making her squeak in surprise. He disappeared back into the kitchen, but returned a few seconds later with a glass of water and her phone. “I'm gonna go help Shaun move a new couch in, an' get the ol' one out. Gonna be okay here for a while?”

“I'll be fine. You, go, do your thing. Say Hi to Shaun and Corinne for me.”

“I will,” he said quietly, and leaned down as he tilted her face up to his and kissed her softly. “Call me if ya need me, 'kay?”

Aisling nodded and reached up to squeeze his hand as he stroked her hair. She pulled his hand down to her lips and pressed a kiss to his little star tattoo “Thank you for looking after me,” she whispered against his knuckles “I love you so much.”

Daryl felt a twist in his heart at her words and the thought of leaving her, even though it would only be for an hour or so. He knelt down in front of her and held her face in his big, rough hands. “Love ya too, Ash. Ain't no bother carin' for ya, sweetheart.”

He leaned forward and captured her lips with his, sucking gently on her lower lip in a promise that he would be back soon, and would pick up where he'd left off.

*.*

Aisling settled back onto the couch and flicked through the television channels. Finding an old episode of Wild Geese on BBC America, she settled back and watched as she and Andy stood on the roof of an old cottage and cleared the chimney using a live chicken. Obviously, the actual chicken had been handed back to it's handler, and a 'stunt chicken', which was made from a pheasant decoy with chicken feathers stuck to it, was stuffed down the chimney. She remembered how much she'd laughed while filming that scene, and saw the glint of amusement in Andy's eyes as he'd shoved the 'bird' down the chimney so that it's flapping wings would clear away the soot. The scene had been shot only a few years ago, but it felt like a lifetime. So much had happened…

She switched the television off, and picked up her phone. Holding the phone up, she took a photograph of her bleary eyes, and tweeted “#BadBadBooze”. Biting her lip as she thought, she tweeted a second time “'fuccking lovve sexy darly yumn arms' still stands, but with better spelling.”

After calling some friends, and making plans for when she returned to London, she went for a quick swim in the small pool in the yard. Feeling much more human afterwards, she had a shower, taking care to scrub away the rose stains between her breasts, and brushed her teeth. Dressed in shorts and an old Ramones t-shirt she flicked through a couple of scripts that her agent had sent. She didn't have much of an attention span, but one in particular caught her eye and she made a note to read it properly another time, when her head didn't feel as though it was packed with cotton candy.

*.*

When Daryl came back, a couple of hours after he had left, he found her browsing the contents of the fridge. She hadn't heard him come in, and was humming softly as she rummaged around, looking for something to eat. Her gorgeous ass was poking out from the refrigerator door, in those tight black shorts, her long legs looking pale and inviting, and he couldn't help himself from just stopping for a moment to admire the view, before striding across the kitchen towards her.

“Miss me?”  
Aisling yelped as two strong arms enveloped her, and a groin pressed into her ass as she leaned into the refrigerator. It took a second for her to register Daryl's unique 'Daryl-ey scent' of tobacco, leather and outdoors, and relax into his grip.

“You scared the shit out of me, mister,” she grumbled, reaching a hand back to lightly slap at his thigh, before grabbing it for a quick squeeze of the hard muscle underneath the fabric.

“That right?” he asked, quietly, as he pulled her hips towards him to grind his rapidly stiffening cock against her “Don't seem so scared, feelin' me up n'all.”

Aisling gasped with pleasure at the feel of him rubbing his erection against her, and pulled her upper body out of the refrigerator, turning around to face her man.

“Ya feelin' better?” he asked, steering her around so that he could lift her onto the kitchen table and get a better angle to rub his body against hers. She felt so soft, and so warm.

“Much,” she mumbled, as her mouth sought his. His tongue pressed past her lips to tangle with hers in a hot, wet welcome that neither would ever tire of.

“Missed you somethin' fuckin' awful, girl” he groaned as she slipped her hands underneath his t-shirt, all damp with sweat from moving furniture in the heavy Georgia summer heat, and raked her fingernails down his chest. Finding his small, round nipples, she paused to graze the pads of her thumbs across them, cajoling the hardening little nubs of flesh to stiffen into life. Daryl moaned into her neck, and nipped lightly at her flesh with his teeth in response, finding the spot behind her ear that he knew drove her wild when he sucked at it.

“Oh Jesus,” she gasped, and reached out to pull haphazardly at Daryl's t-shirt, indicating that she wanted it up and off his body, as quickly as possible. He obliged, and tossed the garment somewhere over in the direction of the door. He didn't care. All he wanted was to feel his skin against hers, and as he tugged her own t-shirt up and off her small frame he was rewarded quickly, when she pressed her torso to his in a tight embrace.

He enjoyed the sensation for a moment, before he pushed her back slightly and cast an eye over the smooth, pale skin of her breasts. He had avoided looking at them for the past few days, because he found the sight of another man's mark on his lovers breast too difficult to deal with. The mark that Andy had left on her was gone, and Daryl exhaled deeply in relief. Avoiding those beautiful tits had been torture, but it was either that or go mad with the desire to avenge her, and he knew that as much as he wanted to storm in and pound Andy's smug face into the ground, that course of action would not have helped either of them.

Daryl dipped his head down to her chest and eagerly sucked a pink nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue around it, coaxing it to full attention. His mouth moved to her other breast, and stimulated it with his tongue also, sucking, flicking, biting gently, teasing the responsive nub there to full hardness with his mouth.

“Love your fuckin' tits, Ash” he mumbled around a mouth full of her soft, supple flesh. Aisling arched her back, forcing her breasts further into his face, and he greedily accepted her offering, his mouth sucking noisily at first one, then the other breast.

“Fuck, Daryl, I want you...” she groaned, and yanked uselessly at his belt buckle. He pushed her hand away impatiently, and quickly undid his buckle and pants, tugging them roughly down until they sank down around his knees. His thick, heavy cock sprang free, hitting her squarely against her shorts as she writhed on the kitchen table.

“Off! Take them off!” Aisling gasped.

_Fuck, my girl's impatient tonight._

A low growl escaped from deep in Daryl's throat in reply, as he roughly tugged at the fabric on her hips, jerking her shorts and underwear down her thighs in one swift move. “So fuckin' pretty,” he breathed, as his eyes roamed her body.

The rough pads of his middle and index fingers stroked along her smooth lips, already glistening with want, before pulling them gently apart so he could admire the view of the pinker folds of flesh within, spread apart like some kind of exotic butterfly. Gently, he slid his middle finger into her, and curled it up to rub against the little spot inside her which felt different to the everywhere else, where it always had her writhing and bucking beneath him when he made contact with it.

“Ohhhh god… Daryl...” Aisling was breathless, her voice low and breaking with desire as her hips thrust up against his hand. She reached down to gently grip his dick, and slid her hand along his length. Up and down. Up and down. She slipped her thumb across his slit, slick with pre cum, and then continued her ministrations on the velvety skin of his head, drawing more and more low growls from him.

Daryl slipped his ring finger into her to join his index, stretching her gently as she writhed around his fingers. The wet pad of his thumb rubbed little circles in time around her clitoris, occasionally swiping across it in some glorious torture.

“Fuck me, Daryl… please” Aisling whimpered against his collar bone, and kicked her shorts and panties off her legs, and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him closer to her.

Daryl was eager to oblige. As he hauled the heavy furniture in and out of Shaun's house, the only thing on his mind had been to return to Aisling as quickly as possible and tear her clothes off. Apart from the night when he had begged her to stay, after that awful shoot with Andy, last night was the first night he had spent with her since they had got together when they hadn't had sex, and the lack of intimate contact had left Daryl with a huge appetite for the feel of her body against his.

Before he'd met Aisling, he had seen sex as something like scratching an itch. When you'd stretched your arm as far as you could but you still couldn't reach it, you used a back scratcher, a door jamb… anything to just get that itch to go away.  
But with Aisling sex was so different. It was a connection.  
Not only his body, but his mind, his stomach, every nerve ending in his body, and his heart was involved in this process. It wasn't just a physical thing any more. Sex with Aisling was far, far more than that.

 

In the back of her mind she heard a knock at the front door, and distractedly waved her arm in that direction, as though that might make it stop. She jumped slightly in surprise when Daryl yelled “Go away!”, as he positioned the head of his dick at Aisling's entrance and pushed the tip in, waiting a moment for her to acclimatize to his girth.  
The door knocked again “Said go away! Fuck off!” he shouted, his voice breaking as he pushed further into her wet warmth.

“Oooh, yes!” Aisling squealed as she slid across that sensitive spot inside her, again and again as he thrust into her relentlessly as though his life depended on it. The sound of skin slapping against skin, his balls slapping against her pretty ass, and their mouths sucking desperate kisses from each other were the only sounds they could hear now. He kissed her neck and throat as they worked together frantically to ride to that exquisite pleasure that built within them both.

Aisling cried out, a gutteral release, as she crested the edge of her orgasm, and as she did Daryl felt himself approach climax himself. He released a loud growl, like a war cry, and reached out to grab the back of her neck with his powerful hands, pulling her head towards him so that he could crush his mouth against hers, as though his mouth could breathe life into the beautiful little brunette coming undone around him.

He stiffened, and felt himself spill deep into the warm embrace of her walls. Daryl wondered if this was what dying felt like, or being born? This unimaginable mess of feelings and sensations, that took him from incredible supernovas through black holes and wild acres of space and science and all that shit, to drop him breathlessly back inside her body.

They stayed like that a while, unable to disconnect themselves, happy instead to press hot, wet, sloppy kisses to each others faces. Aisling slipped her hand up to the nape of Daryl's neck and smiled as her eyes met his while she caught her breath.

“Fuck… I love you, Daryl Dixon.”

Daryl's heart never failed to pump a little faster at those words, spilling from her kiss-swollen mouth. He took a moment to look down at her face, rubbing his thumb across her lower lip, and then he dipped his head again to suck it into his mouth for a moment, before releasing it with a loud, wet, slurp.

He pulled back, and held her face where he could look into those gorgeous big green eyes, all sleepy from sex.  
“Never even knew what love was 'til I met ya, Ash. Now it's like my heart's gonna' burst every time I even look at ya.”

To Daryl, this beautiful woman sitting butt naked on her kitchen table, his cum dripping out from between her legs, was like fucking art, like a sculpture in some museum where everyone queued and paid their dollars just to come and marvel at how fucking magnificent she was.

He was already hard again, and eager to go again. Fuck dinner.

“Upstairs, now!” he growled, and scooped her into his arms as she giggled happily. Aisling was happy with her man's strong arms holding her. He shuffled along with his pants still around his knees, and Aisling in his arms.

“Oh, hang on...” she tapped his shoulder as they passed the front door on their way upstairs, when she saw the note laying on the floor. Daryl ignored her and carried on, but she lightly slapped at his shoulder when she saw that the note was hand written.  
“Daryl, wait a minute… what is that?”

Reluctantly, he lowered Aisling to the ground and pulled his pants back up as he waited for her. She picked the note up from the floor and was quiet as she read it.  
“Oh shit.”

“What does it say?” Daryl asked as he closed the gap between them and pulled at her arm so that he could read the note too.

 _“Hi Aisling,_  
_I could hear that you were busy._  
_The Sunday Post will be publishing a story I have written tomorrow (2am GMT) about your relationship with Darly Dickson, and your previous sexual relationship with co-star Andy Gardener. I have included my phone number and would very much like to hear your side of the story._  
_Please do not hesitate to get in touch,_  
_Yours, Larry Morgan_ ”

“What goddamned previous relationship?” Daryl hissed, his mouth close to her ear.


	28. Chapter 28

 

“Relationship? There was no relationship!” Aisling spluttered, and threw the note onto the table in the hallway. Standing there in at the bottom of the stairs, naked, angry and under Daryl's narrow-eyed scrutiny she felt too vulnerable to comfortably deal with what was happening, and went quickly upstairs to pull on some clothes.

 

Daryl's footsteps thundered up the stairs behind her.

 

“Why'd he say 'sexual relationship', huh? You two had somethin' goin' on?” His voice was getting louder, and Aisling really wasn't in the mood for an argument with him.

 

“No! Never!” she tried to reassure him as she pulled on some panties and a pair of black leggings. As she pulled a thin black sweater over her head she stopped suddenly, and thought for a moment.

 

_Oh... that time in L.A, when I came on to him. Shit._

 

“Okay… there was one thing that happened. Come here...” she grabbed Daryl's hands and pulled him down to sit beside her on the bed. “About two years ago I was very, very drunk, and I'd taken an E, and I kissed Andy and asked him to have sex with me.”

 

“What the fu-”

 

“I was a mess, Daryl!” she interrupted him “I didn't know if I was coming or going, I was homesick, I was horny, and he was just a person who was there… as awful as it sounds, he could have been anyone!”

 

Daryl pulled his hands from hers and jumped up from the bed. He opened his mouth to yell out some of the anger and jealousy that was bubbling inside him when he stopped and rubbed his hands over his face. He took a deep inhalation of breath and gripped his fists tightly against his eyes, trying to pull himself together enough to think for a moment.

Wasn't that exactly what his previous sexual experiences had been? Another body that happened to be there that could fulfil a purpose.

 

Aisling hadn't yelled at him when he'd told her about his past. He would have been pissed if she had; it had happened long before he'd ever met her, just like her propositioning Andy. The only logical reason he had to be angry was that she hadn't told him.

But then, was it really any of his business?

 

He took another deep breath before asking “Did he? Have sex with ya?”

 

She shook her had “No. He was actually nice back then. He said no, and he covered me up with a blanket and left the room.”

 

“Ya got naked?”

 

Aisling nodded, embarrassed, her cheeks flushed a dark pink. “I was so out of it, Daryl. I didn't know what in the hell I was doing. He's seen me naked a million times anyway.”

 

As the words left her mouth she realized they weren't going to help the situation at all.

Daryl paced the room, angrily, no longer able to keep a hold on the jealousy which had gripped him. “If that's supposed to make me feel better, it don't,” he said, his voice low “ya took off all of your clothes and begged that sorry prick to fuck ya?”

 

“I had taken-”

 

“So you'd taken an E, so fuckin' what?” Daryl spun around and yelled at her “Ya still were headin' in ta work to screw around together, lettin' me think there was never nothin' between the two of ya!”

 

“I'm sorry, Daryl. I just kind of forgot about it. It wasn't a big thing to me – it was a stupid thing, true – but I've done dozens of stupid things in my life, and I expect you have too. Things you don't think about much, because they're done, and you've moved on”

 

Daryl looked down at Aisling, sitting on the bed, twisting the hem of her sweater in her hands. Her big green eyes were shining up at him, glistening with tears that he knew she was stubbornly refusing to allow to fall, and she looked vulnerable.

 

He dragged his hands over his face. “When all this newspaper shit started ya asked me if anything'd happened between me an' Cassie, cause ya didn't wanna be surprised by it.”

 

Aisling nodded, and looked up at his intense blue eyes boring into hers.

 

“Feelin' pretty damn surprised right now, Ash, and not good surprised neither. Not fuckin' good at all. Shit...” he sat down heavily on the bed beside her “it ain't easy thinkin' 'bout this rationally, sweetheart. Just wish I'd known.”

 

He felt her fingers lace through his as she squeezed his hand.

 

“I wish I'd told you. I'm sorry you found out this way.”

 

Her heart gave a little skip as Daryl squeezed her hand back, before he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him with a sigh. “Sorry I yelled at ya. Gotta try an' be zen 'bout this. We're a team, right?”

 

Aisling nodded, and nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck “Yep. We're a team.” Daryl pressed his lips to the top of her head “We're gonna deal with this together, you an' me. Ain't gonna let those sorry pricks win.”

 

*.*

 

 

“I got the call around the same time as this Morgan chap called to your house, Ash. They know that you aren't going to elaborate on the story, so they've left it to the last possible minute to let us know about it.” The clipped British voice of Aisling's manager rang around the kitchen from the laptop where they were having their Skype conversation.

 

Daryl poured two large mugs of coffee from the pot he had just made and went to stand beside Aisling in front of the laptop. He handed one to her, and took a sip from the other as he stared down the screen at the tired looking middle-aged woman with crazy messed up red hair, wearing a bathrobe. She was sitting, in what looked like a kitchen, on the other side of the world.

 

“You must be Daryl. Hi, I'm Sue.” She gave a little wave at the screen, then picked up a tablet lying on the table when it made a little 'ping' sound.

 

“Hey...” Daryl nodded at her, briefly thinking how odd it was to be introduced to a stranger in her bathrobe from thousands of miles away. She had obviously got out of bed fairly recently, and he realized that it must be the middle of the night for her.

 

“Okay, it's up on the site now, so if you refresh the page you should see it right at the top. They're leading with it.”

 

“Got it” Aisling murmured, and hit the button on her iPad to refresh 'The Sunday Post' homepage on the browser. She heard Daryl hold his breath beside her, and watched as his fingers tapped impatiently on his mug as he waited as nervously as her for the page to load.

There it was. A picture of Cassie, looking despondent, and obviously having benefited from a make-under from a professional, sat underneath the headline. It took a few seconds for the story to open after Aisling tapped on the link.

 

*.*

 

_EXCLUSIVE: Lover of Wild Geese star Andy Gardener reveals how Aisling O'Brien left him heartbroken after secret off-screeen affair._

  * _Cassie Young was close to 'violent redneck' who spurned her for O'Brien._

  * _Dancer sought comfort with actor Gardener after heated argument with drunken Dickson._

  * _O'Brien and Gardener in a secret sexual relationship until this summer._

  * _'Hostile' and 'jealous' Dickson and 'manipulative' O'Brien flaunted their new relationship._




 

_By Larry Morgan for The Sunday Post._

 

 

_BAFTA Award winning actor Andy Gardener and his Irish co-star, Aisling O'Brien (25) embarked on a secret affair spanning years, The Sunday Post can reveal._

_Ms. O'Brien, then a relatively unknown actress seduced the star on a promotional tour of The United States two years ago. In a Los Angeles hotel room, the Wild Geese beauty performed a strip tease for the 31 year old Londoner, and the two became lovers. In a leaked secret audio recording obtained by The Sunday Post, a tired and emotional Gardener can be heard describing the night the beautiful brunette shed her clothes “I couldn't believe it. I mean, I'd always wanted her and there she was, naked, begging me to f**k her!”_

_The news will no doubt come as a surprise to O'Brien's former boyfriend Sébastien Charron, and the string of beauties that Gardener was linked to during that time, but less so for the legions of fans who insisted that the chemistry between the couple was real._

 

_In an exclusive interview, dancer Cassie Young (22) was scathing about Ms. O'Brien's predatory behaviour, which she thought was fuelled by an intense ambition to be famous._

_Wiping the tears from her eyes in an Atlanta hotel room, Young told us 'You know the phrase 'the good time that was had by all?' That's Aisling O'Brien in a nutshell for me. She's obviously pretty loose with her morals and doesn't care who she hurts or who she tramples on in her determination to get what she wants, and what Aisling wants is fame, and men.'_

 

_The pretty young Georgia native told The Sunday Post about her previous relationship with Darrell Dickson (51), the hot-headed mechanic who has been linked to the actress in recent weeks. 'Darrell and I had been working towards something. We both knew knew where it was going, and to be honest I had fallen in love with him. When he began to see Aisling I was heartbroken.'_

 

_Regulars at the local bar in Goat Rock that the couple frequented confirmed that the pretty blonde was never far from her much older lover's side._

 

_With tears in her stunning blue eyes, Cassie told The Sunday Post about the night Mr. Dickson had violently assaulted a young unnamed college student who had been sitting close to Ms. O'Brien in a local bar :'He just launched himself on the guy. I was frightened. There was so much blood, and people were shouting and trying to pull him away. I was worried that maybe he had killed him, he was so brutal.' When she went to comfort Dickson later he turned on her, and pushed her roughly away._

_'I wasn't worried about me, even though he left me horribly bruised. I still thought that he would come around from under the spell she had cast over him and that we would carry on with this undeniable attraction we both had, so I just wanted to be sure that he was okay. His fists were bloody from the punches he threw at that poor young man.'_

 

_Ms. O'Brien was thought to have been on a date with the young man, and had been seen openly kissing him in the bar. Ms. Young believed that this was to provoke a reaction from Dickson :'She knows what she's doing. I understand that her parents were busy with their own lives, and didn't have time to lavish the unending attention that Aisling demanded of them. I feel sorry for her, if she feels that she has to ruin people's lives to satisfy her craving for attention.'_

 

_In a cruel blow, Ms. Young found out from newspapers and social media that the love of her life had been spending time with the bohemian beauty. 'He didn't even tell me himself' she sniffed, and wiped at her eyes again 'I was devastated. How could he have been so callous?'_

 

_It was at a glamorous showbiz party a short time later that Cassie and Gardener met. She was instantly attracted to the young actor, and he seemed to gravitate towards her as their similarities became apparent._

 

_'I was shocked when Andy told me about them both' said Young. 'She had stolen Darrell from me, and then I found out that the man I had just met was also in love with her, and she had hurt him too. We sought comfort in each other's arms.'_

 

_Recent reports of unrest and tensions on set during filming of the latest series of Wild Geese were confirmed by Young, who told us that 'Andy told me that tensions on set were unbearable, because she was constantly antagonising people.'_

_In the secret recording, Gardener can be heard saying “She acts like she fu**ing owns the place, swanning around. She accuses other people of being unprofessional, but she doesn't stop to think that her behaviour is the cause of it all!”_

 

_'It was particularly hard for Andy because he still loved her' the petite blonde revealed to The Sunday Post. 'She came to his house one night and encouraged him to drink a lot of whiskey, and then she kissed him. When he behaved like a gentleman and asked her to leave she slapped him and stormed out. Then he had to go to work and deal with the diva. He's still in a lot of pain over what happened. I'd like to know why she toys with people like that?'_

 

_Requests for comments from Ms. O'Brien, Mr. Gardener and the BBC went unanswered at the time of going to print._

 

 

*.*

 

 

“Don't engage with them. Keep your head down, and don't let them provoke you.” Sue tapped furiously at her phone as she spoke to the two stunned people in Georgia. “Daryl, are you listening to me?” she asked, glancing up at the screen as she continued to tap at her phone “You can't do anything, ok? No going round to his house. No confronting this Cassie witch. No lashing out when they come to the door… because they will, you know that? They're going to be all over you both.”

 

Daryl clenched his fists “S'all bullshit!” he yelled. He slammed his coffee mug down onto the counter and paced around behind Aisling, trying to get a hold on the rage he felt right now. “I oughta find that piece of shit, son of a bitch and pound his damn face into hamburger! How the hell are they allowed to say this?”

 

“They aren't. I know this is frustrating, Daryl, and I'm on it. We'll sort this, okay. Just, in the meantime sweetie, keep it reigned in. Both of you.”

Sue thought for a moment, then added “It might be worth mentioning this to your brother Daryl. The media could approach him, and you don't want him making matters worse either. Tell him to control himself.”

 

Daryl groaned, but nodded. _How in the hell am I gonna get Merle to keep his big mouth shut?_

 

“So, what, we're supposed to just hide here til' they get bored?” he asked, leaning over Aisling's shoulder to look at Sue.

 

The woman looked up at him sternly “Yes, until I tell you otherwise, that's exactly what you do. If there's somewhere else you can go that they don't know about, then go there, but whatever you do _do not_ engage with them. Don't answer the door. Don't answer their calls. Okay?”

 

Daryl nodded, and went out onto the porch for a cigarette while Aisling finished her call with Sue. After a few minutes she joined him and tugged his pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket.

 

“I'm sorry,” she sighed, the words escaped in a plume of exhaled smoke, as she leaned her head against Daryl's shoulder.

 

“Ya 'aint' got nothin' to be sorry for, sweetheart. Ain't your fault.” He wrapped his arm around her back and squeezed her gently, rubbing his rough fingers across the exposed skin at the neck of her sweater.

“Ya believe me, don't ya Ash? I ain't never had nothin' to do with Cassie. Weren't her fuckin' lover or whatever that paper said.”

 

Aisling looked up at him, watching as he chewed on the skin in side his lower lip, and nudged his hip with hers “I believe you. You have much better taste.” She smirked playfully, encouraging a half-hearted chuckle from Daryl.

“Yeah, I do,” he whispered, and bent his head slightly to kiss her temple.

 

“I am telling the truth too… about Andy, you know that?”

 

“Yeah, I know. Hell, that paper ain't never got nothin' right.” Daryl shook his head as he looked up at the stars and wondered why everything had to be so complicated. Why couldn't things be easy for them?


	29. Chapter 29

 

**I've updated my synopsis/intro/whatever it's called, because mine was criminally bad. I wrote it as I was posting my first chapter, and was like 'Uh, what, I have to do this _now_?' **

**If anyone can come up with something better I'd be grateful for the suggestions. I suck at stuff like that.**

 

“Oh my, lil' brother. Well never in my life did I think I'd see your ass all tangled up in some sex scandal!” Merle hooted as he read over Aisling and Shaun's shoulders. “Sure you ain't never got up to a little fun' with Cassie? No itchin' down there, is there?” he nodded towards Daryl's crotch “Got a burnin' feelin' when ya piss?”

 

Daryl paused his pacing across the black and white tile of the kitchen floor long enough to snap “Jackass” at his grinning brother.

 

“That's not helpin' none, Merle” Shaun turned his head to frown at a grinning Merle, who slapped Daryl's back. “Aw hell, I'm only ticklin' Darylina here. Before the lil' fairy queen turned up I was startin' to wonder if maybe he wouldn't feel more at home on Brokeback Mountain. I even said to Bobby, I said 'Bobby, do you reckon my baby brother's a qu-”

 

“Merle, would you ever just shut the fuck up!” Asling spun around and glared at her boyfriend's brother who was leaning against the kitchen wall, grinning around the matchstick clamped between his teeth.

 

“She's a lil' spitfire that one!” he chuckled, and reached out to poke Daryl in the ribs as his younger brother stopped pacing to stand in front of him. “She like that in the sack, huh? Bet she's a squealer, when ya get her all we-”

 

Daryl quickly closed the distance between himself and his brother to yell “Merle, shut up!” in his face. Merle responded with a chuckle and let Daryl resume his nervous crossing and recrossing of the kitchen.

 

“Why exactly did you invite him here?” Shaun asked Aisling, quietly. Merle was unhelpful at the best of times, and at times when a clear head and a calm discussion were needed, he was exactly the wrong man for the job.

 

“Because we needed to tell him what was happening, preferably before any press got to him, and because he's going to help us. Isn't that right, Merle?” Aisling raised her voice and shot Merle a warning look as she finished her sentence.

 

“Sure am, sugartits. Ol' Merle's wise counsel's well known round these here parts. I'm like that old dude with the beard in the movies.”

 

Shaun snorted, and stood up from the laptop, stretching out his back “Are you comparin' yourself to Gandalf, Merle?”

 

“Who the fuck's Gandalf? I'm talkin' 'bout the guy with the eyebrows,” he looked at Shaun's blank face, and elaborated in a slow voice, as though talking to a particularly dim toddler “in Kill Bill, man!” Merle shook his head at Shaun and looked towards Aisling, twirling his forefinger around his temple as he nodded his head back towards Shaun in disgust at his obvious lack of knowledge of what Merle considered to be one of the few movies ever worth bothering with, which wasn't porn.

 

Daryl pulled his cigarettes from his pocket and stomped towards the back door.

“Let's go have a smoke. Figure out the plan.”

 

*.*

 

Daryl drove his truck home, while Merle followed behind on his bike and took his brother back to Aisling's when he'd grabbed enough clothes from his meagre supply to last him a few days, and his crossbow. In the meantime, Shaun called Corinne to let her know what was happening, and Aisling packed a bag for herself. She loaded it, her camera gear and laptop into Shaun's car and waited for Daryl and Merle to return.

 

As she sat on the couch, nervously tapping her fingers on table in front of her, she could hear Shaun on the phone in the kitchen. “… So if you guys could come out and swing by both places from time to time I'd sure be grateful” he said to whoever was on the other end. “Daryl and Aisling are gonna stay with Corinne an' me, 'til it all blows over. Merle's going to his… lady friend's place in Palmetto.”

 

Aisling leaned forwards to rest her elbows on her knees, and sank her head into her hands. She listened as Shaun gave his cell and house numbers, and said he'd be in touch if there were any updates.

 

_What a day. A hangover from hell, a hatchet job of a story, and a midnight flit. Can today get any better?_

 

All these people were running around, rearranging their lives, going to extraordinary efforts to accommodate her, and she felt so very guilty. She wondered if leaving right now might be the right thing to do? She hated being a burden, and right now she felt like the biggest inconvenience ever. People out there in the world had real problems, and here was Aisling with her 'oh no, people are telling lies about me' sob story.

 

When she'd been sent to boarding school, after being successfully thrown out of three other schools previously because of her 'precocious, disruptive and unacceptable behaviour', she would call home every night in the vain hope that one of her parents might be there.

On the rare occasions that she would catch one of them in, they would sigh, and ask if she wanted them to just stop their lives, and their businesses, because she felt a bit miserable? They had given her and her brothers everything they had ever wanted, the best holidays, the nicest houses, the best educations, and that required hard work and focus.

“The world does not revolve around you, Aisling,” her mother had huffed one night when she had called her in tears and begged to come home “You would do well to try and focus on not being such a burden to people. Being your Mother has increasingly become something of an unpleasant chore.”

 

Since then Aisling had tried hard to be independent, and the disruption that people were already going through because of her stupid little problem didn't sit well with her at all. The fact that Daryl was also being targeted, simply because he was her boyfriend, was the icing on a cake made of shit.

 

*.*

 

Daryl carefully locked up Aisling's house, checking every window and door. He took extra care at the front door because he wanted to be sure that it was secured properly, and when he was satisfied he climbed into Shaun's car where Aisling waited in the back seat.

The plan was to leave her car there at the house so that it wouldn't be spotted elsewhere and give her location away.

Merle gave them a little salute as he took off on his bike to stay with Heather, and they were on their way.

 

Shaun and Daryl talked quietly about his call to Officer Eugene Ingram, one of the two officers who had come to Aisling's house the day of the break-in. Eugene had assured Shaun that he and his colleagues would take Aisling's, and Daryl's, safety and privacy very seriously, and Shaun trusted him to do just that.

Eugene's son Gary worked with him at the shop on weekends, and Shaun had built up something of a friendly relationship with the officer over time. He'd often asked after his colleague and the young actress when he called into the shop to collect Gary, and said that if there was anything he could do to help either of them again, to just holler. Eugene had transferred from Atlanta ten years previously, and seemed to be well aware of what could happen to people in the public eye from his time in the city.

Shaun believed that if anyone would step up and try to stop the unwelcome intrusion into his friend's lives, it would be Ingram.

 

“He's gonna ask patrols to stop by the houses an' check 'em out a few times a day, see if anyone's snoopin' around. Ain't strictly supposed to get involved, but he said there's certain things he can do that might help. Said if they see anyone there they can talk like she's in there, say stuff like 'she ain't comin' out to talk'. That's gotta help, right?” Shaun asked Daryl, who was looking over his shoulder at a very silent Aisling in the back seat. Daryl nodded, “Yeah, can't hurt none” and hoped that this whole mess would be over with quickly.

 

*.*

 

“Hell, don't think I've eaten in forever” Daryl grumbled as he sat down at Corinne and Shaun's table to a welcome bowl of chilli. “Hey, Ash, ya gotta eat, sweetheart,” he said as he scooped up a handful of tortilla chips and crumbled them into his bowl. Aisling was prodding the chilli with her fork, moving it around but not eating it.

 

“Yeah, I will.”

 

Aisling was tired, still a little hungover, and the feeling of guilt that spread from her stomach through her body made her want nothing much to do with food.

 

Corinne sat down beside her and rubbed her shoulder “Don't have much of an appetite, huh?” she nodded at the untouched chilli. Aisling sighed, “I'm sorry Corinne. I'm sure it's amazing, but… yeah, for once food and I aren't really getting along so well.”

 

“Don't you worry about that, honey. Why don't we get you settled down, you look exhausted.”

She took the bowl of untouched chilli and made towards the kitchen, but Shaun reached out his hand with an 'are you kidding me?' look towards his wife, took the bowl from her and tucked in to his third helping that night.

 

As Corinne took Aisling to the guest room, Shaun studied Daryl's face as his friend sat, shoulders slumped, and forked the food into his mouth without seeming to taste it. His blue eyes were staring at the kitchen island, unseeing, and Shaun could almost see his brain working as he chewed.

 

“Penny for 'em?”

 

Daryl turned to face him, surprised for a moment by the voice which jolted him from his own head, and shrugged. “Can't do nothin' to help her. Wish I could just go to that douchebag's house an' whip seven shades of shit outta him, but I can't. Wouldn't help things none.”

 

Shaun nodded. He couldn't begin to understand what Daryl must be going through right now. The urge to protect the ones you love was an all encompassing, physical force. If anyone ever tried to hurt his family he would kill for them.

For Daryl to have his hands tied like this must be killing him, especially as Aisling seemed to be closing in on herself. When he'd arrived at her house that night she was a little ball of energy, shouting at Merle, coming up with suggestions on what they could do, packing up, getting sorted… and then it was like her batteries had started to run out, and she slowed to a stop.

 

“Do ya think she's okay?” Shaun asked, scraping around his bowl with a spoon to get at the last bits of chilli.

 

Daryl shook his head “Naw, she ain't okay. She was like this after she filmed that scene where that fucker raped her, all quiet an' shit. An' when I kissed her that first time, an' I thought she'd freaked out an' I ran… she was like that then too. S'like, when shit happens, she crawls into herself.”

He pushed his bowl away, any appetite he'd had now gone. “Dunno what to do, Shaun. Do I let her carry on an' work through it or whatever the hell it is that people say you gotta do?”

 

Shaun stood up to gather their bowls. He took them to the sink, and turned to face his friend. “Honestly, I ain't got a clue, Daryl. Seems like she's in shock or somethin' to me, but I'm just some backwoods mechanic.”

He ran his hand through his greying hair before he went to the refrigerator and took out two beers. He opened them and returned to the table, passed one to Daryl and took a drink from the other.

“If it were me, an' it was Corinne, I'd wanna' talk to her, figure out what was goin' on in her head.”

 

“Ain't exactly in the best place for some kind of confrontation” Daryl huffed, looking around at Shaun's house. He and Aisling were still so uncomfortable talking about their problems. Neither of them really opened up to the other much when something was bothering them, but when they'd let whatever it was bubble and fester for long enough, and voices were raised, and blood pounded with rage, they didn't have a problem yelling at each other about how they felt.

 

Daryl wasn't exactly an expert in the field of relationships, but he knew that if he and Aisling were going to make a go of what they had together, they needed to be able to talk to each other, without some god almighty fight preceding things.

 

“There doesn't need to be a confrontation, does there?” Shaun asked, taking a swig of his beer “You two fight much?”

 

Shaking his head, Daryl looked uncomfortable “Naw, mostly it's all great. Just we don't ever seem to solve problems without doin' a lot of yellin'. Worried one of these days I'll say somethin' I can't get myself back out of an' she'll quit my sorry ass.”

 

“It's all new, Daryl. The two of you only just got together. Gonna take a while to figure out what way the two of you work best together, an' 'til ya do, there's probably gonna be some yellin'. You'll get there, though.”

 

Daryl nodded, and as he took a drink of his beer Corinne came back into the kitchen and sat down with them.

 

“My, that girl sure has had the stuffin' knocked right out of her,” she sighed and picked up Shaun's beer to take a swig from it. “Must be awful, havin' some stranger write lies about you for everyone to read. Makin' out you're some kind of predatory hussy.”

 

“That's what I don't understand,” Shaun said, quietly so as not to be over heard by Aisling from her bedroom “why can't she just call up a paper an' give her side of the story?” He and Corinne both looked to Daryl expectantly for an explanation.

 

“Don't work like that, 'parently,” Daryl sighed “Everythin's gotta come from her manager or somethin'. She said doin' all that 'he said, she said' shit in the papers don't get ya nowhere, and it ain't professional. They're lettin' lawyers an' all do it instead.”

 

“That makes sense, actually” Corinne nodded as she got up to get her own bottle of beer, when Shaun clutched his and made a face at her when she tried to take it for another sip “When do you ever see real celebrities talking to the papers about stuff that's written about them? They do the 'dignified silence' thing. It's only the real low-rent types that go blabbin', and Aisling's way classier than that.”

 

*.*

 

 

“I know y'aint asleep, sweetheart,” Daryl's low, quiet voice cut through the darkness of the unfamiliar bedroom Aisling lay in. She was being as still and quiet as she could be, hoping that he'd just get into bed and go to sleep himself, but Daryl's finely-tuned hearing and observational skills told him otherwise.

 

Aisling turned around, and lay watching him silently as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Don't wanna talk to me?” he asked as he undressed down to his boxers, and slipped between the covers to lie on his side, facing her.

 

“I'm sorry about all this” she whispered, sadly, as a tear rolled down her cheek and over the bridge of her nose.

 

“Hey, c'mere,” he wiped the tear away with his thumb, and gathered her smooth, soft body into his strong arms. “Ain't got nothin' to be sorry for, Ash. Ain't your fault.”

 

Her shoulders began to shake as she cried against his chest. Daryl made soft, soothing noises and stroked her hair “It's getting' sorted, ain't it? Sue said so. It'll all be over soon an' we can go back to normal. By the time you get back from London it'll all be forgotten.”

 

“But… but it's not fair on you. You shouldn't have to go through this,” she sobbed “You never signed up for this.”

 

“Signed up for you, sweetheart. I love ya, an' if shit like this is part of the package then it's just somethin' we gotta deal with.” He reached down to cup her chin in his large hand, and tilted her face up so that he could look at her “You got Merle as part'a my package. Reckon that's worse.”

 

His little half smile and reassuring words coaxed a wet, half-sob, half-giggle from the woman in his arms.

 

“You still want to do this? Us?” she asked, biting her lip, hoping that the answer would be yes. She knew that her heart would shatter into a million useless pieces if he said no.

 

“Course I still wanna do this. You're the best damned thing ever happened to me, Ash. It'd take a hell of a lot more than some lyin' whore an' a newspaper not fit to wipe my ass with to make me ever wanna stop doin' this.”

 

Aisling released a quiet sigh, wavering with receding sobs, and nestled into Daryl's solid body. He always made it all better.

 

“Gotta say somethin' though, Ash, an' I want ya to listen, 'kay?” His voice was low, and serious. The importance of what he wanted to say was written in the tone of his words.

 

She looked up at him nervously, and nodded for him to go ahead.

 

“Ya gotta tell me shit, I mean it, sweetheart. Can't go keepin' it all in, getting' all quiet on me. Same goes for me.”

Daryl was right. She'd never been good at talking about negative feelings, preferring instead to squash them down into a negative mulch deep inside.

 _Nobody wants to hear a moaning minnie, yammering on about her woes._ _Do everyone a favor and zip it, yeah?_ Her Mother's words swirled in her head.

 

“Seems to me that if we talk about stuff, we won't get to misunderstandin' an' shoutin' at each other.” Daryl's rough fingers traced patterns on the smooth skin of her back as he spoke, and he hoped that she understood what he was asking.

 

“You're right,” she said quietly, and pressed a gentle kiss against his collar bone. “I keep it all in, and I know it's unhelpful. I promise I'll try harder.

 

“Me too, sweetheart. Gonna do what I can to make us even stronger.”

 

He tilted her head up to brush his soft lips across her forehead, and squeezed her as tight as he could in his arms in a reassurance that he wasn't going anywhere.

 

“'Kay, so spill. What's goin' on in that head of yours?”

 

Aisling sighed, and wriggled free from Daryl's strong arms enough to lay on her back in the bed. She thought about what she was feeling for a moment, and took a deep breath. “I feel like I am a burden, on you, Corinne, Shaun, Paige and Stevie, Merle, the Police…. you name them, I've inconvenienced them. I don't like to be a problem. It's making me anxious, and when I get anxious I kind of shut off.” With that little mouthful spilt, she exhaled in relief and stared at the ceiling, watching the occasional faint light of distant cars trace a faint diagonal path across the room.

 

Daryl propped himself up on an elbow to look down at Aisling's face, as she nervously bit her bottom lip and played with her fingers as they lay on top of the covers, fidgeting. “Y'ain't a burden, Ash. Ya know me an' Merle's too damn stubborn to do somethin' we don't wanna do, an' I know Corinne's excited as anythin' to have ya here. She don't like the circumstances, but she's got someone to fuss over, so ya ain't inconveniencin' her none.”

 

He watched as Aisling glanced across at him, her big green eyes shining in the dim light. “Nobody would have had to adjust anything if it wasn't for me though, Daryl. I feel guilty.”

 

“Did you go talkin' to that newspaper? No, ya didn't. Did you make 'em write shit about ya? No, ya didn't,” he reached out his hand to take hers, curling his big fingers around her shorter, slender ones. “Ya did nothin' to feel guilty about. Would ya say the same if there were some accident or somethin', and ya needed an ambulance or fire fighters? No, ya wouldn't. So ya ain't gotta feel guilty 'bout somethin' ya ain't done.”

What Daryl was saying made sense. She wouldn't have felt so bad if there had been an accident or something else beyond her control, and this newspaper story was something which was well and truly beyond her control. Confiding in Daryl, this sweet, gruff man that she loved so much she thought her heart might explode like a fleshy piñata filled with feelings, glitter, candy, and tears, had already helped settle her nerves. If they could keep this up, and talk to each other, rather than bottling everything up, they might just make it.


	30. Chapter 30

The dark figure crossed the pale oak floor of Andy's home on ghost-light feet. Silently, the intruder crept towards the couch, where the actor lay sprawled in his underwear, an empty bottle of whiskey in his lap. 

A large boot collided roughly with the couch, inches from where Andy's bare leg was stretched out, jolting him into consciousness. It took him a second or two for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and then he saw the bulky figure looming over him, silhouetted against the moonlight which sneaked in from the windows. Andy tried to jump up, but a rough hand caught his throat and pressed him back down into the couch. 

“Y'oughta have moved the spare key after ya told me where it was, dumbass” Merle grinned down at him, his voice quiet and menacing. 

Merle had passed Andy's house on the way to Heather's place in Palmetto, and had turned his bike around to watch the house from the quiet of the narrow wooded road. Nobody was around. Everywhere was quiet, with only the sounds of the forest to break the silence. Merle had pushed his bike off the road, into the trees where it would be unseen from the road, and crept up through the shadows towards the house of the man who was responsible for the upset that his brother, and the little woman Merle suspected Daryl loved, was going through. 

“Merle! Bloody hell!” Andy tried to push his body up, but Merle was too strong, so he sank back down against the couch, his heart pounding. “Wh… what are you doing here?”

“Suppose you've seen the Sunday papers, Andy? All about how my baby brother's some kind of backwoods savage, an' his girl's nothin' more than a fame-hungry slut?” Andy reached up to grab Merle's wrist, and pulled it from his throat, gasping for breath.

He scrabbled to sit up, pulling himself as far back into the couch as he could, and rubbed his neck. “I didn't know what she was doing, I swear” he pleaded, “The first I heard about it was when I got a call from my manager tonight. I swear, Merle...”

Merle stood up straight, and held his arms out to show there were no hard feelings. “Well if that's the case, Andy, then that's just dandy, an' I'm awful sorry to have bothered ya!”

Andy's eyes darted from side to side, unsure if Merle was being genuine or not. When Merle held a hand out to him, to help him up, he decided that the danger had probably passed and he allowed himself to be helped to his feet, thinking that he could explain himself to the stocky redneck standing above him when he was upright. As he stood, before his feet had even had a chance to steady themselves on the floor, Merle's fist collided with his jaw, sending him slumping back into the couch, a sharp pain spreading through his face.

“You gonna piss in my ear an' tell me it's rainin', Andy, huh? You tellin' me you never knew what that lil' whore was plannin'?” 

Merle's fist came crashing down into Andy's stomach, making the whiskey and burrito that were in there come rushing out, bubbling over his chin to pool on his stomach and trickle down onto the couch.

“I didn't know, I swear!” he spluttered, through spit and chunks of pork “I only found out tonight!”

“You know what,” Merle said, calmly, “I got a brother who don't know what day of the week it is 'cause his girl an' him's been thrown under a bus, an' I got the junkie scum responsible tellin' me it ain't his fault.” He sat down beside Andy's feet, watching the actor scurry to the far corner of the couch, wiping the vomit from his chin. 

The grin on Merle's face had vanished, replaced by a grim scowl. “Thing is, Andy,” he asaid, his voice a low whisper “I've spent more time inside than you've spent away from your momma's tit, an' I ain't exactly itchin' to go back, but for my lil' brother, I will. I didn't protect him when our ol' man was beatin' him black an' blue, but I'm ready to to step up an' protect him now.”

Andy's face crumpled in on itself as he began to cry, and he pleaded with Merle “Don't hurt me! I didn't know anything! Please, don't hurt me!”

Merle shook his head in disbelief “Man, you are a cowardly piece of shit, you know that? Pissin' your pants, beggin' me not to hurt ya.” He looked down in disgust at the dark stain spreading it's way across the front of Andy's boxers, wondering why on earth there were girls on this earth who worshipped the ground this sorry excuse of a man walked on. Merle had done his homework. He'd looked this coward up, and saw all the blogs and stuff devoted to him. There were women following him around, begging him for a picture so they had a souvenir of their five second encounter with him. He had awards, and magazine covers, and a future full of promise that neither Merle nor Daryl were ever guaranteed to have.

It crossed his mind to get out his phone and take a picture of the actor cowering on the couch, his urine trickling along the brown leather beneath him, but that wasn't Merle's style. He knew his strengths lay in his fists, so he put them to good use again and delivered two swift blows to either side of Andy's head, making the actor's ears ring.

He leaned his face close to Andy's and watched as the man struggled to get his breath. “Now, the way I see it is, either you come clean to the newspapers, or I will, ya understand? I ain't got nothin' to lose, and ain't it better you do it on your own terms than on ol' Merle's?”

Andy's eyes grew wide in terror, the realization that his career could come crumbling round his ears suddenly more terrifying than Merle's fists. 

“No, God, no… Merle, please…. I've worked so hard!”

“An' you think my brother ain't?” the angry redneck bellowed close to Andy's face, spraying him with spit “Daryl might be a pussy as far as I'm concerned, but he ain't never stepped down from his responsibilities. He dropped out of school to look after our Daddy, an' forgot any ideas he might have had about a future for himself.” 

Merle shook his head, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before he continued “He works all the hours the good Lord sends us, jus' so he can keep a roof over yours truly's useless head. An' now, well he's found himself a good woman who, for some reason, seems as into him as he is into her, and I ain't about to let nobody take that away from him.”

“So, what do you want me to do?” Andy shuddered, and wiped the slime of blood, spit and puke from his face. He could either go along with what Merle wanted, or he could be disgraced by whatever this thug had to offer. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he would rather disgrace himself if he could, and he knew that his manager would be happier for him to come clean, than for his former dealer to do it for him.

Merle settled down onto the couch by Andy's feet, and knocked them out of the way with his hand. 

“For starters, I want you to tell them that all that shit Cassie was sayin' was lies.” Andy nodded, eager to appease Merle. That part was easy. Cassie's revelations hadn't painted him in a particularly good light and he was happy to dispel them.

“Next, you're gonna tell them that Cassie was a hooker, an' you were high as a fuckin' kite, an' Aisling was a little ray of fuckin' sunshine on that set, you got me? All the problems, all the arguments, that was down to you an' your habit, not her.”

“But, I won't work again-”

Merle's fist slammed into his gut, and it took a few more minutes before Andy was able to nod his consent to Merle's plan. 

Satisfied that he had got what he came from, Merle stood up and wiped his bloodied knuckles on Andy's pants leg. 

“Ya fuck with Daryl's girl, ya fuck with Daryl,” he explained calmly “Ya fuck with Daryl, ya fuck with Merle.”

“Alright, I'll talk to them, I'll tell them...” Andy spluttered, spitting blood out into the sick congealing in his lap. 

“You'd better, sunshine. 'Cause if you don't, I will hunt you down, an' I will find you, an' I will snap off each an' every one of your fingers and fuck you with them, an' don't think that I won't.”


	31. Chapter 31

**Life's been bananas, so this update is a little later than I'd anticipated.**

**I actually ended up trying to finish it on a plane yesterday, but had to stop when I realized the lady behind me was staring :)**

**I own neither Daryl nor Merle, and _everything_ else is completely fictional.**

**Thank you for reading!**

 

**Now, I'm going to catch up on the ton of other fic updates I haven't been able to read yet :)**

 

 

*.*

 

 

The following morning was sunny, with the noticeable chill of a fast approaching fall in the air.

 

Aisling wore one of Daryl's shirts – the only one he'd brought which had the arms still intact – over her tank top as she sat beside him at Shaun and Corinne's table the next morning, and read the statement that had been published in Monday's Daily Post. The shirt smelled like him, and even though she had quickly recovered from the emotional state she'd gotten into last night, she still wanted the comfort of Daryl around her as much as possible.

 

Their talk about being more open with each other had helped them both a lot, and Daryl in particular was feeling a lot more optimistic about his role in their relationship. He didn't want to fuck things up with her, and that was less likely to happen if they could talk to each other without him flying off the handle. Sure, he still had a temper and probably always would, but since he'd been with Aisling he'd learned to control it a little better.

 

He hated it when she went quiet on him and didn't know what she was thinking, or how he could help. She was usually so happy, and chatty, that seeing her almost shut down to an empty shell at times upset him because he didn't know what to do.

 

Daryl hated feeling helpless, and he hated feeling insecure. He'd spent so much of his life up to now not feeling worthy of anything or anyone, but this beautiful, intelligent, talented woman came along and she loved him, and she helped him to see that he had worth, and a purpose. Sometimes he'd even puff up his chest a little and feel a little proud of himself.

When she shut down on him the insecurity crept out of it's cage inside him and started to snake it's way up through his body and into his head. Now he felt that maybe he had a more secure lock for that monster's cage.

 

Aisling nudged him with her elbow and pointed her piece of toast at the paragraph containing their statements for him to read.

 

“ _Ms. O'Brien and Mr. Dixon vehemently deny the accusations made. Ms. O'Brien was never in any relationship, sexual or otherwise, with Mr. Gardener, and refutes the allegations wholeheartedly._

_Mr. Dixon has never had any contact with Ms. Young apart from in a social setting. He refutes the ludicrous allegation that he was in, or ever contemplated, a relationship with her._

_Both Ms. O'Brien and Mr. Dixon are taking legal advice on the matter.”_

 

Corinne listened intently as Daryl read aloud, eager to find out what, if anything, had evolved overnight.

 

“That sounds pretty official, alright,” Corinne nodded as she chopped up a banana to add to the children's cornflakes.

 

Aisling sighed, and shook her head sadly “I hate that we even had to issue a statement. It's so unseemly, talking about personal matters in public... how dare they put us in this position.”

 

The corner of Daryl's mouth twitched up and he gave a quiet snort at Aisling's use of the word 'unseemly'. _Man, we ain't cut from the same cloth at all, are we sweetheart._

 

The rest of the story had been rehashed for today's issue, with a screenshot of a comment from Sébastien's twitter included. It read “ _C’est vraiment des conneries! Nique ta mère Larry Morgan_.” and either The Post hadn't bothered to have it translated and didn't know what it meant, or didn't think that any of their readers knew enough French to understand it, because they printed it as it was.

Aisling giggled, and sent a silent 'thank you' thought to her ex-lover.

 

“That French or somethin'? What's it mean?” Daryl asked around a mouthful of breakfast cereal, waggling a finger at the screenshot as he leaned in to look at the iPad again. Aisling glanced over at Paige and Stevie arguing over a spoon at the other end of the table and pulled his head down slightly to whisper in Daryl's ear.

 

“Huh, that so?” he nodded slowly in approval, the French man having gone up slightly in his estimation.

 

*.*

 

Shaun had ordered Daryl to stay home for the day, to avoid any press that might turn up at the shop, and to spend some time with Aisling. She was leaving on Wednesday and Shaun thought that they would both benefit from a little time together before she went, even if they were confined to his house. He had heard her crying last night when he went to bed, and heard his friend gently comforting her. When he told Corinne what he had overheard, she volunteered to take the kids to a girlfriend's home for the day; the kids could all play together, and it would give Daryl and Aisling some time alone.

 

“I've left lunch for you both in the refrigerator, got my cell in case you need to contact me, and I won't be back before three, so you've got the place to yourselves!” Corinne ran through everything as she pulled on her jacket, and nudged Aisling lightly with her hip, shooting her a grin.

“Have fun!” she mouthed, so Daryl wouldn't hear her and get embarrassed, and shooed the kids out to the car, closing the front door behind her.

 

Aisling sidled over to where Daryl still sat at the table, scrolling through an almost identical version of the story in another British newspaper website, occasionally pausing to drink his coffee.

“Hey,” she whispered, as she slid her hands over his broad shoulders and leaned down to press her face to the crook of his neck, breathing in the unique earthy, outdoors scent of the man she loved. “What are you doing?”

 

“Just readin' what shit's been written today. At least this one got my name right, an' didn't say I was fifty or nothin'” he drawled, and tilted his head slightly to the left, to allow Aisling's soft lips better access to his skin. All the nerve endings in his body instinctively lit up, causing a firework display of connections inside him. As her full lips sucked and kissed at his neck, he felt his underwear tighten.

 

_Damn girl just has to touch me an' I'm harder than a virgin in a strip joint._

 

“Anything new?” she asked as she took his earlobe between her teeth and tugged gently on the fleshy lobe.

 

“Nothin' worth mentionin'” Daryl rasped, quiet and low, as he set the iPad down and pulled Aisling's body onto the table in front of him, leaning forward quickly to press his mouth against her hot, sweet lips with a purposeful kiss. He thrust his tongue past her teeth to the warm, sweet cavern of her mouth, and slid his hands up over her shoulders to her hair, gathering fistfuls of her smooth, dark locks.

 

He released a frustrated groan as his hands slipped from her hair to tug impatiently at his shirt that she was wearing.

“Keen, are we?” Aisling teased, as she slipped the garment off her shoulders.

 

“Ya don't know what ya do to me, girl” he moaned against her throat as his hands fumbled with the clasp of her bra underneath her tank top.

Daryl still hadn't got the hang of undoing bras, and Aisling had already had to chuck one in the garbage due to Daryl's eagerness to get his hands and mouth on her breasts. Eventually, he wrenched the clasp apart with brute force when he couldn't unfasten it quickly enough. Quickly, he yanked her tank top over her head, and tossed her ruined bra away from her body to free her breasts for his zealous tongue and rough, work-calloused hands.

 

“Oh, God, Daryl...” as the breathy sigh escaped Aisling's lips, Daryl's cock jumped in his shorts and he undid his belt clumsily, all the while trying to maintain contact between his mouth and Aisling's warm, soft skin. He pulled his pants and shorts down in one go, allowing gravity to help them sink around his legs.

 

His brow creased with confusion as he felt her pat the table beneath her “Kids eat off this table, Daryl… don't want to fuck on it… bedroom” she gasped, and it only took Daryl a second to slide his strong hands underneath her thighs to lift her up and begin the quick, undignified waddle to their room, with his pants and shorts around his ankles.

 

He dropped her onto the bed, and lowered himself down to reclaim that soft, full mouth with his.

 

 

There were times when Aisling and Daryl made love when he was as gentle and as tender as he could be, his movements slow and deliberate, just like when he was hunting.

Other times he was all grabbing hands, his mouth sloppy and wet, just like how he ate, without any refinement. That was how he took Aisling now, hooking his arm beneath her to spin her around so that her stomach was pressed against the bed and the round, firm cheeks of her bottom were angled up towards him, the wet pinkness between her legs indicating that she was ready for him.

 

The sight drew a deep throaty growl from Daryl as he grasped his swollen cock in his hand and guided it to her entrance.

He plunged deep inside her fervently, filling her, his thighs pressed close against the curve of her ass as his broad chest pressed close to her back. He pushed her hair to one side so that he could nip her neck lightly with his teeth and his large hands cupped her bouncing breasts, tweaking and pinching her nipples as he slammed into her. Small, excited gasps escaped Aisling's lips.

 

“So fuckin' perfect” he moaned against her skin, his hot breath sending more waves of pleasure through her as he delivered himself to her in long, powerful strokes. His kisses on her neck and shoulders grew more haphazard as the ball-tightening tingle in his groin rose, and surged, and the thrill spread through his stomach and thighs to the rest of his body.

 

He had no idea what unintelligible, breathless mutterings were dripping from Aisling's lips, but her noises spurred his own orgasm on, knowing that it was him who was giving this beautiful woman so much pleasure that the power of speech had escaped her, and at that moment nothing else in the whole world was of of the slightest relevance to either of them.

 

“This good for ya, huh, sweetheart?” he grunted against her neck.

 

“So… fucking… good...” she gasped in response, barely able to string the words together.

 

A powerful blaze of pyrotechnics set off throughout every single part of Daryl's body as his climax took hold. Aisling's low, whimpering moans increased in pitch and volume as his body jerked, and he gripped her body tightly as he took them through their orgasm. Daryl leaned his head back and his mouth opened to release a low growl of satisfied pleasure. He felt the first explosion of hot semen spurt up through him to stream into her, as she contracted around him. His thrusts weakened as he continued exploding deep inside her, and a series of gasping groans and pants escaped from his throat as body trembled against Aisling's.

 

When he had no more to give, and his body was still enjoying the thrill of his release, he sank down against her and covered her back with his torso, tucking his arms beneath her to hold her tightly.

 

“Love ya, Ash,” he gasped “Gonna miss ya so fuckin' much.” His warm, wet lips dropped exhausted kisses on the smooth white skin of her shoulder.

 

Aisling twisted her head, but couldn't get close enough to Daryl's soft lips to satisfy her, so she wriggled around so that she lay on her back and he lay nestled between her legs. Her lips claimed his contented smile with a satisfied, lazy kiss.

 

“I'm going to miss you too...” she murmured against his lips, smoothing her hands over the scarred, knotted skin on his back “It's going to be weird being so far away from you.”

 

“Promise ya'll still come back?” he asked quietly, and gently pushed a strand of her long dark hair away from her cheek. “I promise,” she whispered, and pulled his face towards her for a long, slow kiss.

 

*.*

 

Daryl stacked the plates from their late lunch into the dishwasher and his lips quirked up into a little smile as he thought back on their extended morning spent in bed. He couldn't wait for her to come back. They'd get a little place together, somewhere with trees and space, and they'd have many more mornings like this one together, just the two of them, sharing kisses and touches… nothing but their whispered thoughts or the sounds of their lovemaking to break the silence around them.

 

“Andy's left early,” Aisling's voice jolted him back to the here and now as she came in from the back yard where she had been talking to Sarah on the phone. “He was supposed to be on the same flight as me on Wednesday, but he got papped at the airport this morning with a coat over his head.”

 

“Why the hell'd he have a coat over his head?” Daryl wondered aloud.

 

“His face is all beaten up! Someone on the plane tweeted a photo of him.” Aisling scrolled through her twitter for a bit to see if she could find it, but gave up and put the phone down on the counter. “I wonder who else he's pissed off.”

 

Immediately, Daryl had a strong suspicion that he knew whose handy-work Andy's injuries could be a result of, but decided not to say anything about it until he'd had a chance to speak to his jackass of a brother.

 

“His reps told the press that he had an accident filming. He didn't – that's a load of bollocks – but it means even whoever it was, Andy's keeping quiet about it,” Aisling continued as she jumped up to sit on the counter to Daryl's left.

 

He moved over to stand between her legs, and pulled her to him in a warm, tight embrace. Aisling was going to miss those arms around her. She purred contentedly against his chest, rubbing her cheek across the soft fabric of his plaid shirt, and breathed in the smell of him.

 

“Whatcha gonna be doin' when you're in London then?” Daryl asked, twisting his fingers around a strand of her long dark hair as he held her close. Would it be two weeks of parties and rock stars? Would she get caught up in her old life again and realize that coming back to Goat Rock, and to him, would be a massive come-down in the world?

 

“It's going to be crazy,” she mumbled against his chest “I've got to do some audio replacement in a sound studio, which is a pain in the arse and is going to take bloody ages. Then there's some promotional filming and photography stuff to do that will be used nearer transmission, and there are four or five interviews lined up too...”

 

“Two weeks long enough for all that?” he asked, tilting her head up to look at the little frown on her face that he could hear in her voice.

_Damn, my girl's gonna' come back to me exhausted._

 

“That's not the half of it, Daryl!” she sighed “I've got meetings with a playwright and a couple of directors about a couple of roles, and an audition, and a photo shoot for one of the interviews! I know it's not exactly hard work, I mean, I'll be sitting there talking, or trying to look pretty … it's hardly like I'm out there saving street children in India or anything, but… urgh.”

 

She rested her forehead on Daryl's chest and exhaled slowly.

 

“Ya done?” he asked, smirking at the top of her head. She looked up and nodded at him, and he held her face in his big, rough hands, peering into those big green eyes of hers.

 

“It's what ya do, Ash. Hell, I couldn't do it, sitting still for so long, getting' idiots askin' ya all kinds of shit, havin' to be patient… would drive me damn crazy.”

 

“Yeah, but-”

Daryl cut her off by clamping her lips gently between a calloused forefinger and thumb. “But nothin'. Anyone would fit to drop after doin' all that in jus' two weeks. Jus' cause' y'ain't haulin' bricks or savin' lives don't mean it ain't a proper job, so I don't wanna' hear ya' sayin' stuff like that no more, 'kay?”

 

Aisling nodded, and wiggled her lips to get Daryl to release them.

 

“Deep in the backwoods of Georgia, lives an ordinary man with a super power...” she said, making her voice deep like a movie trailer voice-over man “By day he is a mechanic, but when he's finished fixing cars he becomes _Pep Talk Man_!”

 

“Shut up,” Daryl laughed, and gave her shoulders a gentle push before he pulled her in close again to his warm embrace. “S'only cause I love ya',” he murmured against the little spot behind her ear that drove her wild when his lips ventured anywhere near it “Don't give nobody else no 'pep talks'.”

 

Aisling tilted her head and moaned softly, suddenly eager to get back to what they'd been doing before their stomachs had begun growling and they'd stopped to eat, when the door opened and Shaun's voice called out.

 

“You two decent?”

 

Daryl groaned, and stepped away from Aisling before he yelled “Yeah!” irritably. Aisling giggled and hopped down from the counter, smoothing her clothes as she did so.

 

Shaun popped his head around the door cautiously, and grinned at the guilty expressions on the couple's faces. “Ingrams is here, wants to talk to ya both.”

 

He came in and went to the kitchen sink to wash his hands, and was followed in by the officer who nodded at both Aisling and Daryl.

 

“Want a coffee, Eugene?” Shaun asked, switching on the coffee machine.

 

“Sure, that would be great, thanks.” He took off his hat and sat at the table, while Aisling sat down beside him and Daryl eyed him from behind the kitchen island.

 

There had been some media activity around Goat Rock that day, but not as much as there could have been if the notorious couple had been flitting around from place to place. A handful of paparazzi had camped out at Shaun's repair shop all day, causing curious folk to drive by but leaving people ultimately unwilling to come in. Shaun, Chuck and the other guys had spent the tidy finishing what jobs they had until Shaun had decided to close up early.

Ingrams had intercepted two of the media's finest trying to take pictures through the windows of Aisling's house, but most had remained at the end of the drive, waiting for her to make an appearance.

One of Ingram's colleagues had caught a reporter on Daryl's porch, but as at Aisling's house they mostly stayed at the property boundaries.

 

The Goat Tavern and the diner had done a steady trade all day in catering to the small influx of parasites, and while all had asked whoever they encountered questions about the couple, they hadn't caused too much trouble.

 

Aisling shuddered at the thought of people staring in through her windows. That house would not be hers and Daryl's home, even if just for a short while, she resolved. Another item to add to her list of Things To Do – ' _Find somewhere to live_ '.

 

 

*.*

 

Dinner that night was a relaxed affair, with the adults eating after Paige and Stevie had been bathed and tucked into bed.

Paige had insisted on a bedtime story from her 'Auntie' Aisling, which the actress had delivered with different voices for each character and lots of enthusiasm, and it wasn't long before the little girl's eyes had begun to droop. “I know you have to go away to another country for a bit,” she had murmured sleepily “but when you come back, will you read me more stories?”

 

“I'll read you as many stories as you wish, Princess Paige,” Aisling whispered and kissed the little girl's forehead as she tucked the blankets around her. She couldn't quite grasp how much her life had changed in the short time she'd been in Goat Rock. Not only had she met and fallen in love with Daryl, but she'd made good friends, and had been welcomed into this adorable, loving little family.

She loved her life and her friends back in London, but it felt to Aisling that her future lay here in Georgia now.

 

*.*

 

“I wanna come in, even if it's only for half a day, Shaun,” Daryl said firmly to Shaun's suggestion that he take another day off “Can't hide forever.”

 

Shaun passed him a fresh bottle of beer from the fridge and sank down into his chair beside his wife, who poured Aisling another glass of wine. “Don't ya wanna spend another day with Aisling?” he asked, looking at the little brunette who was scraping her bowl for the last molecules of pecan pie she could find hiding there.

Aisling looked up, surprised from her scavenging mission, and shrugged “I have to go to the house anyway. I need to pack up my stuff for the flight. They might not even be around tomorrow.”

 

Corinne and Shaun passed a look between them, and Shaun nodded in a resigned agreement. “Alright, but ya gotta promise not ta rise to 'em if they start sayin' shit to ya. An' Aisling, Chuck's gonna go with ya to your place, 'kay? You ain't goin' there on your own.”

 

Aisling gave Shaun a little salute “Aye, aye, cap'n.”

 

*.*

 

 

“Were those paparazzi saying stuff about Daryl and Aisling?” Corinne asked Shaun sleepily as they lay in bed that night.

 

“Yeah,” Shaun whispered, as he stroked his wife's arm idly “they were tryin' to get a reaction from us, I reckon.”

 

“What were they saying?” Corinne was curious. She'd never encountered anything like this before, apart from the time her cousin Pearl was crowned Miss Roanoake Rapids back when Corinne was a teenager, and there had been mild outrage and subdued media interest when it came out that Pearl had been simultaneously dating two of the judges.

 

Shaun groaned, and scrubbed his fingers through his hair as he recalled the day. “One of 'em was shoutin' when we arrived, askin' if all of us had been with Aisling too… like that. Another one was askin' if I was married, askin' if Aisling had ever come onto me. I don't see Daryl takin' too kindly to that line of questioning, Cori.”

 

Corinne turned her body to curl into her husband, and sighed “No, I don't expect he will, but we can't protect him forever, Shaun. If he wants to go out there you just have to make sure that you and the boys have his back.”

 


	32. Chapter 32

“Hey, Daryl! Did you know your girlfriend had an affair with Andy?”

“Daryl! Daryl! Is it true Cassie Young is a prostitute? Did you ever pay Cassie for sex?”

“How's it feel to have a girlfriend who's 'the good time had by all?' Daryl?”

Daryl kept his head down as he and Shaun got out of Shaun's brother's car in front of the repair shop. The group of four or five photographers swarmed around them, shouting questions as he tried to make his way towards the door of the repair shop which Chuck was already holding open for him. He was clenching his fists and summoning every ounce of will power in his body, as he tried to ignore what the men were yelling at him, and struggled to see where he was going with the incessant flash of cameras. 

“What's it like dating Aisling, Daryl? I wouldn't mind knowing what that mouth could do-”  
The photographer took a couple of hurried steps back and put his hands up appeasingly as Daryl spun around angrily and charged towards him, snarling “Son of a bitch!”  
Shaun and Chuck were quick, and both grabbed their furious friend, pulling him away from the smirking pap before he got close enough to hurt him, while the others crushed closer in a flurry of camera clicks and blinding flashes, inches from his face.  
“Y'ain't got no right sayin' shit about her!” Daryl yelled over his shoulder as he was pulled into the shop “Fuckin' worthless, waste of fuckin' air, fuckin' asshole cunts!” 

When the door was closed on the men sniggering outside, and the other workers quickly got back to what they were doing from their gawping at the scene which had unfolded outside, Shaun and Chuck released Daryl against the hood of a Lexus SUV and let their friend take a few deep breaths. 

“It's been like that since yesterday, Daryl. They just want a reaction from you.” Chuck said carefully, eager to avoid winding his friend up further as Shaun went to get a couple of bottles of water from the cooler at the far end of the shop.

Daryl pushed himself off the SUV hood and twisted around quickly to face Chuck “What they say yesterday, huh? Gonna tell me?” 

“They, uh...” Chuck cleared his throat “they asked if we'd all been with her… with Aisling.”

“Motherfuckers!” Daryl yelled as he stormed towards the door of the shop, just as Shaun returned with the bottles of water, and quickly put them on a table so he could grab Daryl by the shoulders and prevent him going outside.

“Thanks, Chuck, real helpful...” Shaun muttered, as he wrestled Daryl around to face him. 

“He asked, man!” Chuck protested weakly as he dragged a stool over for Shaun to push Daryl onto. 

“Goin' out there and punchin' someone ain't gonna help no one, Daryl” he grunted, forcing Daryl down into the stool. He held his angry friend in place for a few moments until his struggles subsided and he sat, fuming quietly.  
“Why'd ya think I didn't want ya here, Daryl? They're tryin' to piss ya off… gonna say all kinds of shit to get to ya. A photo of ya tryin' to stomp one of them into the ground's probably worth a lot more than one of you just walkin' in here calmly. Don't give 'em what they want, brother!” 

Daryl clenched the edges of the stool with his hands, his knuckles white, and nodded reluctantly. He took a couple of deep breaths and stood up, casting a glance outside to the photographers, who were standing around chatting on their cellphones and looking through the shots they'd got on their cameras, as Shaun went around closing all the blinds on the windows.

He pulled his old, beaten up phone from his pocket and dialled Aisling's number, needing to hear the woman he loved, that all this was for.

“Hiya Mister, how's work?” Her voice was even, happy, and calming. If he could, he'd go back in time and not make the bloody-minded decision to come into work today. He would stay with Aisling, enjoy what time they had left together, and not let the urge to show the world that he wasn't afraid influence him.

“Not so great,” he admitted, quietly “few asshole photographers around. Kinda lost my shit with one of 'em.”

He heard her sigh on the other end, and she was quiet for a moment.

Shit. Gone an' screwed things up again, ain't I. She's disappointed with me now.

“Sorry, didn't mean to,” he began to apologise “They were sayin' stuff an'-” his quiet grumble was interrupted by Aisling's soft voice, reassuring him.  
“You're human, Daryl. You don't need to say sorry… I know what they can be like. Besides, you defending my honor is kind of hot.”

A slow blush crept up Daryl's neck and cheeks to the tips of his ears, and her giggle brought a small smirk to his face.

Shaun wandered over with Chuck and pointed at the phone “That Aisling?” Daryl nodded, and Chuck clapped his hands together and bounced on the balls of his feet slightly, as if gearing himself up for something.  
“Tell her I'll be there in an hour. Gotta put a little deception in play first, then I'll help her get her stuff.”

*.*

 

Later that evening Shaun ran a slice of garlic bread around his plate, sopping up the leftover tomato-ey juices from Corinne's lasagne on his plate, as he told Corinne how Chuck's plan to evade the paparazzi had worked.

“First he took new tyre down to old Mrs Fletcher on Mill Road and fitted that, then came back to the shop. Next, he went round to Earl at the diner with an empty box an' spent a while pokin' about under the hood of his ol' Camry.”  
Shaun smiled as he recounted how well his friend's plan had worked. A couple of paps had followed Chuck both those times, but they soon tired of his increasingly mundane errands as he returned to the shop each time, and eventually ignored him. That's when he went for Aisling, and had been back at the shop within an hour and a half of leaving, her packing for the trip complete.

“It worked so well!” Aisling nodded, sliding a finger across her empty plate to scoop up the last trace of lasagne, before popping it into her mouth and sucking the remaining deliciousness off. She was going to miss Corinne's cooking when she returned to London.  
Sure, the city had some of the world's finest restaurants in it, but nothing, as far as Aisling was concerned, could compare with good home cooking.  
She'd experienced it rarely growing up, only on rare trips to her Dad's family in Cork, so it represented a long sought-after feeling of a real, family home.

Daryl stole a glance across at Aisling from underneath his dark bangs as he sat on the opposite side of the table, shoving what was left of his food around the plate with his fork. His appetite had escaped him, his stomach in knots from the growing anxiety he felt when he thought about her leaving. She wouldn't be here this time tomorrow, and even though she'd be back in a couple of weeks he was dreading the physical separation. 

He was also disappointed because he had wanted to be the one to help her pack up her things, ready for their move together. In the idealized scene his imagination conjured up, they would pack everything into the back of his truck, laughing and teasing each other, then they'd hop in, he would kiss her, and he'd drive them off to their new life together.  
It was something he'd thought about a lot, and the more he did the more he found himself yearning for that moment together. That happy step they'd take together.

As it was, they didn't even have anywhere to move into. Those details had seemed secondary in the mess that was Aisling's last couple of days in Goat Rock.  
While Chuck had performed a pantomime to get her to her house to pick up what she needed for London, he had been ordered to stay put, and so he'd spent the time glowering in the shop.

“… a few hours in the evenings, and we'll soon get it all packed up, isn't that right Daryl?” Corinne's voice jolted him back to the present, and he turned to her in confusion “Huh?” 

“I was telling Aisling that between us all, we'll get the rest of her stuff packed up in no time. We can keep it here in the garage until she's back, so it's all ready for the two of you to move to wherever you go to.”

Daryl nodded and gave Aisling a little half smile, as the realization that they could still do 'the move' together dawned on him. The angry knots in his stomach loosened a little, and he found himself relaxing slightly. To anyone else it was probably just a chore that needed to be done – packing a truck up with boxes – but to Daryl it represented a start out in a life that was wildly different from the life that he thought he was destined for a few short months ago, and he desperately wanted them to do it together.

 

*.*

 

Daryl lay on his back on the bed, his breath coming in quavering pants, his skin coated in a soft sheen of sweat. Aisling crawled slowly back up his body to lay her head on his chest, listening to his heart pounding within his chest. He wrapped his still trembling arms around her lithe body and lowered his head to press a kiss to her tousled hair.  
“Gonna miss you so fuckin' much, Ash” he moaned into the silky, dark strands.

“Are you going to miss me, or my mouth?” Aisling asked coquettishly, tilting her head up to look into his deep blue eyes, so he could see the smirk on her face. He snorted quietly and pulled her up so that he could kiss her properly, his soft, warm, wet lips moving slowly against hers. 

“Gonna miss here...” he pressed a soft kiss to her mouth “here...” he kissed her eyelids, then moved down to her neck, “...and here...” he trailed his lips down to her beasts “...and here… and here….”  
His mouth and tongue went on a tour of her body, showing her everywhere he was going to miss, before he came back up and his deep blue eyes stared into hers.  
“Gonna miss all of ya. Inside an' out. Not just your body, Ash… although that's pretty fuckin' amazin'.”

Aisling smiled, and nestled into his shoulder, tracing her fingers through the soft, sparse hair on his chest. “I'm going to miss silly things, like the way your voice is all gruff when you wake up... the way you lick your fingers when you eat...” she paused to kiss his nipple softly “… and the way your hands are always on me, whether it's your hand on the small of my back when we're in a store, or when you reach out to squeeze my thigh when you're driving… all those kind of things.”

Daryl's heart swelled with happiness in his chest, and Aisling heard it beat faster. He could join in this, he thought.

“Gonna miss your giggle” he admitted, blushing slightly at the admission. “An' the way you get all excited, bouncin' an' clappin' an' shit. S'cute.”

“Sure you want this giggling, bouncing, clapping idiot to come back?” Aisling teased, tracing her finger around his nipple so that it stood hard against his chest.

A low groan escaped him, and he pulled her body tightly against his. “Gonna miss the way ya get me. Y'know, ya just know what to say an' I come back from whatever anger I got myself all tied up in… an' you're the sexiest fuckin' woman I ever laid eyes on.”

He smirked against her lips as he pulled her in for another kiss, and her giggle sent heat soaring through his body. 

“Love you so much, Ash” he whispered against her throat, before his mouth began a journey south towards her pussy, dropping hot little love letters across her skin as he went. 

*.*

Corinne took Paige and Stevie to a girlfriend's house early the next morning, so when the daylight eventually woke Aisling and Daryl from their slumber, they had the house to themselves.

“What time's your flight at again?” Daryl mumbled around Aisling's nipple, coaxing her towards their third bout of lovemaking of the morning. “Nine-ish, I think,” she gasped, unable to truly comprehend time or logic while Daryl's hot tongue flickered around the stiff peak of her breast “Heather's picking… me up…. around… six...”  
Her back arched as he moved across to lavish attention on the other nipple now. 

“Wish I could take ya” he paused to grumble, before resuming in his effort to keep his mouth full of Aisling's succulent flesh. 

“Shut up,” she moaned. “Not the time…. for travel itineraries...” 

A while later, as he tried to gather his thoughts and his body into something resembling normal functionality, Daryl looked up at Aisling straddling his crotch with her camera in her hands. He covered his face with his hands and groaned, but she reached down and pulled them away. “Nobody will see these. These will be ours,” she whispered, and took a couple of pictures.  
He hated having his photograph taken – why, she wasn't entirely sure – but she'd be damned if she didn't have anything to look at while she was away.

Wriggling down to lie beside him, Aisling held the camera above their faces. Daryl turned his head to face her shoulder, and placed a kiss there as the camera clicked.

“Can I get one… just one… of us together?” she asked, gently. The hope in her big green eyes, and the tightness in his heart at the thought of her going in a few hours made him relax slightly and nod. “Do it then, 'fore I change my mind” he grumbled as he pressed his cheek to hers and waited for her to take the picture.

*.*

Daryl lay alone in the darkness of Corinne and Shaun's spare room, staring at the photograph of him and Aisling that she had taken that morning. Their bodies were close together, the fingers of his right hand splayed across her naked breast, her hardened nipple peeking between them. Their cheeks were against each others, and while Daryl stared into the camera Aisling's eyes were turned towards Daryl, and they were full of love.

As he looked at the photograph he thought back on the last couple of months, and how this beautiful, intelligent, funny woman had turned his life upside down.  
He had been destined to walk his life alone, with nobody but Merle and his friends for company, and he had been content to do that. Then, she had come into his life and he was suddenly unsatisfied with that future… he wanted her in it, and now she was. 

She was somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean at the moment, so far away. But she would be back, and this was the thought that Daryl held close to him as he eventually let sleep take over and he slipped into a dream where they were old and happy in a house filled with the laughter of children, and grand children.


	33. Chapter 33

**Hello, it's been a while!**

**Sorry about that – moving house, busy with work, blah blah blah. Thank you for your patience.**

 

**First things first: Oh my god, guys, I can't believe I wrote 'succulent boob flesh' in that last chapter. It was going to be either 'succulent flesh' or just 'boob' but my fingers got confused and I posted _that_.  
** Sooo icky, sorry :(  
I've edited it. 

**As ever, I don't own Daryl or Merle, and everything else is make believe.**

 

**Thank you for reading!**

 

*.*

 

Time passed torturously slow for Daryl over the next nine days, with each day dragging itself out to feel more like a long, slow week all of it's own.

He spent his days arriving early at the shop, then working late, and slipped into the habit of spending his evenings on the couch, half-watching garbage television until he either dozed off there, or his body carried him to bed, and he was able to sleep for a couple of hours before he woke and went to work again.

The new routine left him exhausted, but it was preferable to laying in bed alone, and awake.

 

Daryl hadn't realized quite how much, and how quickly, he had grown to physically need Aisling around him until she wasn't there. The absence of her body beside him in bed felt as though he was missing a vital part of himself that it was impossible to function properly without.  
His face wasn't pressed into the warm skin of her neck, and his arm wasn't curled around the welcoming curve of her waist.  
His hand was empty, without the warm, heavy softness of her full breast to fill it.

It was all wrong.

 

Nights were quiet in Daryl's house, without Shaun and his family around, and with Merle still staying at Heather's place out in Palmetto.

 

The paparazzi had disappeared from in front of Shaun's shop, which _did_ help Daryl's mood improve somewhat. He no longer dreaded coming into work, and enjoyed the privacy that his own house gave him, but he was lonely.

Daryl missed Aisling something awful, and was utterly miserable without her.

 

Chuck and Shaun had tried numerous times to get him to go to the bar with them, or even just to go to one of their houses for a few beers after work, but Daryl was too tired and irritable to be good company.

“Don't wanna go nowhere. Jus' wanna go home, 'kay?”

 

A week of gentle pressure and coaxing passed, and eventually, after Merle showed up unexpectedly at the shop on Friday afternoon and the three men all joined forces in a united nagging front, Daryl relented and agreed to join them at the Goat Tavern that night.

 

 

*.*

 

 

“Where the hell you been, Merle? Tried callin' ya a bunch of times,” Daryl asked as they sat at a table near the back of the busy bar waiting for Chuck and Shaun to come back with their beers.

He'd wanted to talk to Merle about his house, to let him know he'd be giving it up and he'd need to sort himself out with somewhere to stay, but he hadn't been able to get hold of his brother since the night they'd left Aisling's house.

The suspicion that Merle had been responsible for Andy's beating was still floating around in his head too, but he decided to tackle that issue another day.

 

“Been busy...” Merle's keen blue eyes darted around the room, checking to see who was nearby.

 

Daryl's eyes narrowed “Doin' what?” What could Merle be doing that was making him behave even shiftier than dealing did? Daryl's heart began to thump faster in his chest, wondering what kind of nasty shit Merle was up to now.

 

His brother turned back to face him and pursed his thin lips slightly before he said “Been goin' to meetin's, up in Palmetto. Gettin' clean,” he paused to rub his hand across the rough silver stubble on his jaw, then snorted out a laugh and grinned “Ol' Merle ain't gonna be no fun no more.”

 

“Serious?” Daryl frowned in disbelief.

 

Merle nodded, and stuck a match between his front teeth and waggled it up and down “As cancer, baby brother. Heather goes to one herself, asked me along an'… well, it turns out those places ain't as full of fuckin' bible bashers an' cry babies as I'd thought.”

 

Daryl was speechless, so after a moment of trying to think of something to say and coming up with nothing, he settled for a quick nod at Merle. He would know what it meant. That silent communication between the two brothers often said more than words ever could.

 

Merle nodded back quickly, his eyes meeting Daryl's for a moment to let him know that he understood and appreciated the unspoken support and pride.

 

“That ain't all though,” he continued quietly, “Got myself a job, started Wednesday. Friend of Heather's fixes up old cars an' bikes… classic stuff, y'know, no plastic shit... supplies some stuff for television an' movies an' all too. He's taken me on, on a trial… see how it works out.”

 

In the space of a few minutes Merle had twice left his brother stunned.

Happy, and proud, but still stunned.

Silence fell between them for a moment or two before Daryl asked “Ya happy?”

 

“Like a pig in shit, lil' brother,” Merle grinned, and clasped his large hand around his brother's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.

Daryl couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as he reached out to grip Merle's shoulder in return. “Proud of ya', Merle.”

 

“Pshhh,” Merle blew out between his lips, removed his hand from Daryl's shoulder, and put on a hard face that Daryl saw through easily “No need to get all fuckin' _Wonder Years_ on me, Darlina.”

 

*.*

 

A couple of hours and several beers later, the four men were enjoying themselves, and Daryl begrudgingly admitted to himself that it was good to be out of the house. Chuck and Shaun were in the middle of gently teasing Daryl about how miserable he'd been all week without Aisling, when they noticed a slight hush fall over the tables around them as people turned to look at them, then towards the bar.

 

It was Merle who spotted Cassie first, tugging on a disinterested man's arm in a drunken attempt to solicit some business, or at the very least a drink. He calmly rose to his feet and made his way towards her with slow, deliberate footsteps.

Chuck and Shaun followed behind him, staying close enough behind to intervene if necessary.

 

“Well, well, well... if it ain't the hardest workin' girl in Goat Rock,” Merle's loud voice boomed from behind Cassie, making her spin around unsteadily to glare at him before her eyes searched the bar for Daryl.

 

He had stayed seated at the table, staring at the bottle of beer he held clutched firmly in his fist, not trusting his self control enough to join his friends and brother in confronting the woman who had tried to ruin his and Aisling's lives.

 

“The Diseased Cooze Convention is next week sweetheart. You're early!”

Cassie snorted at Merle and returned her attention to the uncomfortable looking man she had been targeting.

 

Merle tapped him on the shoulder and motioned for him to move away, and the man eagerly obliged, walking quickly to the other end of the bar.

 

“Ya got balls of brass Cassie, comin' in here, like ya ain't as unwelcome as a fart in a spacesuit.”

 

“You weren't so fussy a year ago, Merle,” Cassie slurred, and leaned forward to jab a long pink, chipped fingernail at his chest.

 

Merle laughed loudly, looking around at everyone in the bar who had stopped what they were doing to watch the events in front of them unfold. He held his arms out wide, and addressed the crowd as much as he did Cassie “Hell, I think everyone of these good people can confirm that when I've been flyin' high, singin' to the birds, I would stick my dick in just about anythin' with a pulse. I wouldn't take the fact that I stuck it in you as any kind of compliment, honey.”

 

Cassie's thin top lip pulled itself into a sneer, and as she turned away from Merle and looked for the embarrassed man she had been attempting to cajole, she muttered “fuckin' redneck scum.”

 

Merle laughed again, even louder this time, letting out a long “hoooooooo!” as he steadied his breath again.

“You don't fool ol' Merle, Cassie. I know redneck scum make your panties wet. Ain't ya just spent the last couple of years pawin' all over my baby brother, tryin' to coax him into that fish-gutters bucket of yours?”

He watched Cassie's eyes flicker over towards Daryl, who was still gripping his beer bottle, not looking at them, then back to Merle.

 

She shrugged and twisted her mouth into a smile “He'll get sick of that whore soon enough.”

 

Merle put his face close to hers as a broad, vaugely threatening smile spread it's way across his face “Tell me, why would my lil' brother want to go to Piggly Wiggly when he's been shoppin' at Whole Foods, huh?”

He flicked his tongue out and waggled it suggestively to emphasise his point, and was about to turn around to return to the table when Cassie launched herself at him, pushing her hands against his broad, taut shoulders.

 

“At least I'm honest!” she screeched “That ugly Irish bitch fucks around with anyone she can get her claws into, pretendin' she's actin'! Where is she now, huh? Probably gettin' her pussy filled by some other poor sucker who falls for-”

 

Daryl was on his feet before he knew it. He pulled Merle off to the side and took his place in front of Cassie. She was startled, her eyes wide with surprise at Daryl's face so close to hers, his blue eyes blazing, his mouth twisted into a snarl.

 

”Shut the fuck up about her!” he shouted, his face close to hers, spitting rage “I never wanted ya! Never even liked ya none, damn stupid, jealous bitch. You disgust me, y'hear?”

 

Shaun stepped forward and placed a hand on Daryl's shoulder, but he was shrugged off as Daryl jabbed his finger into the air just in front of Cassie's face, not close enough to touch her, but enough to make her flinch “If you thought goin' cryin' to a newspaper for money, tellin' lies an' shit about us, would make me stop lovin' her then you're an' even dumber, disgustin', delusional fuckin' whore than I thought.”

 

Cassie's mouth flapped open and closed like a freshly landed catfish as she looked from Daryl's face, twisted with rage, to the appalled faces of the bar patrons staring at them.

 

Enraged, and humiliated, Cassie's hands flew towards Daryl's face, where she tried to claw at him with her long, chipped fingernails. He was about to grab her wrists and hold them when Jim, the bar manager, and one of the female members of staff leapt out from behind the bar to pull her off him and escort her off the premises.

 

“I'm tellin' you Cassie, I don't want you round here no more, y'hear? You show your face in here again an' I'm callin' the cops on ya. This is a bar, not a street corner!”

Jim's deep voice carried across from the door as Cassie was steered towards the exit.

 

It took a moment or two before people stopped staring at Daryl, and Cassie's struggling figure as the capable bar girl wrangled her out to the parking lot, before conversation slowly picked up and everyone began talking amongst themselves again.

 

 

“Okay, lil' brother?” Merle asked as he took the beers Jim passed them when he'd returned, on the house, and carried them over to the table they had sat at before all the commotion. Daryl nodded, biting at the skin inside his lower lip, and looked down at his hands which were shaking with the rage and the adrenaline that had coursed through his body when he had confronted the woman who had threatened the most important thing he'd ever had in his life.

 

“M'good,” he muttered, nodding, trying to steady his hands by placing them flat on the table as they sat down. “Spent a lot of nights awake, thinkin' 'bout what I wanted to say to that bitch. Didn't say half of it, but got some stuff of my chest.”

 

Merle nodded, and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder as they took their seats, followed by Shaun and Chuck. “Can't have been easy, what all y'all have been through this past while...” he offered, trailing off as he ran out of words.

 

Daryl remembered nights out at the bar over the years, and how Cassie had tried to wrap herself around him. He wished now that he'd been more vocal in his protestations… maybe she might not have gotten the idea that they were meant to be together. Besides pushing her away, telling her to leave him alone, that he wasn't interested in her, he could have done something more… maybe he could have avoided the whole Cassie and Andy shitstorm that blighted his and Aisling's last days together?

 

Shaun watched his friend worry his lips with his teeth as he thought, and knew without Daryl having to tell him exactly what it was that was bothering him.

“Nothin' ya could've said to Cassie would've stopped her from doin' what she did, Daryl. Girl's a walkin', talkin' bag of problems.”

 

Daryl looked up from his beer to meet Shaun's pale blue eyes, filled with concern and reassurance, and shrugged his shoulders “Jus' wish I could'a done somethin', y'know? Protect Ash somehow… stop all this shit from happenin'.”

 

_Ain't never gonna stop wantin' to keep her safe an' happy. My whole damn life's about her now. Wanna keep her from harm… wrap my arms 'roun' her an' protect her._

 

 

*.*

 

 

At the same time that Merle and Daryl were confronting Cassie at The Goat Tavern, Aisling was in her flat in London, cramming clothes into two large red suitcases.

She had had some girlfriends round earlier, and they had helped her sort through her closet which had been crammed with clothes, and now lay empty. They had worked their way through an eye-watering amount of prosecco as they had stripped off, tried on different outfits, laughed and reminisced.

 

Naturally, her friends had demanded details of her relationship with Daryl, and cooed over the tamer photos of the pair that Aisling had taken on their last morning together. The general consensus was that Aisling was lucky to have such a prime example of manhood waiting for her, and given the chance they all _totally would_.

 

“I never thought, when I went to Georgia, that I'd end up meeting a man I would move halfway around the world for.” Aisling pondered aloud, and drained her glass “I could be going to live in a hole in the ground for all I care, but as long as I'm with Daryl, I'd be happy” Aisling admitted, hugging a Chanel cocktail dress to her chest absent-mindedly as she pictured his face, his lips quirked up in that little half smile she loved so much.

 

“Do you think you might love him?” one of her friends had asked as she smiled down of a picture of them together at her mobile phone.

 

“I don't think, I know” Aisling had answered, confidently “From the moment I met him that was it. Boom. Those love wheels were all in motion.”

 

Her friends had all 'awwww'ed, and they'd spent the rest of the evening quizzing her about her sexy, rugged, backwoods hunter before tripping tipsily down the stairs from her apartment, laden down with clothes that she had given them.

 

Now, as she laid out a trimmed down selection of evening wear on the bed, to be packed into proper clothing carriers by the removal company arriving tomorrow, Aisling smiled to herself and thought about Daryl.

 

She missed being in his arms as they slept. She missed the feel of his hot breath against her neck,

She also missed the little things, like the way he would regularly push his hair our of his eyes, and the scent of earth, and fall leaves that lingered around him, or the way he would come in from work and wrap his body around hers in a greeting that never grew old.

 

Glancing at the clock, she realized that Daryl had finished work in Georgia long ago and they might be able to talk.

They would try – her schedule permitting - to call each other either when Aisling was waking up and Daryl was thinking about maybe switching off whatever trashy television show he'd been watching and going to bed, or when she was going to bed and he was arriving home.

  
It didn't always work out, and there were a few days where they didn't talk at all, but when they could they would talk quietly, laugh or just catch up with what was happening with them both as she lay in bed and he sat on the couch in his living room.

 

She picked up her mobile phone to ring him, but before she had a chance to start keying in his number her phone rang.

“Have you heard the news about Andy?” Sue asked, excitedly.

 

“No… what has he done?” Aisling wondered what Andy had done, and whether he would be causing them another world of hurt.

 

 

*.*

 

“Hey, how's my girl?” Daryl asked, his rough voice immediately sending tingles from Aisling's ear straight to her lady parts.

 

“I've got good news, Daryl” Aisling sighed happily as she lay down on the sofa, holding her phone to her ear, and stretched out her legs as much as the boxes on the far end allowed her.

 

“Yeah? What's that, sweetheart?”

 

“Andy's been in rehab since he got back, and he's done an interview where he completely refutes what Cassie said. I haven't seen it, but his agent's been in touch with Sue and it's all good, apparently.”

 

“Serious? He's said it's all bullshit?” Daryl felt a weight start to lift from his shoulders almost immediately. He knew Cassie's claims were baseless, and so did Aisling, and that's all that really should matter… but at the same time he had worried about Aisling's career and reputation, if anyone had believed the stories. He had hoped that most people would see they were false, but he didn't know how things worked in her industry, and was relieved that maybe now there would be no doubt in anyone's mind that Aisling was not the manipulative, unpleasant, unprofessional person Cassie had painted her to be.

 

They talked for ages, about what they'd been doing, and about silly things like what they'd had for lunch, and the way Aisling's cab driver earlier had smelt of onions.

 

Daryl decided now was as good a time as any to mention the house he'd found out about. Part of him was worried that Aisling would dismiss it out of hand. It wasn't the type of house he pictured a TV star living in, but then again, with a fresh coat of paint it could be a great home. He didn't want to pressurise her into a decision though. He wanted their new home to be somewhere they both loved, not somewhere she felt obliged to live in just because he'd found it.

 

She listened patiently as he described the house to her, and then he waited for her to tell him that she wasn't interested.

 

“It sounds perfect, Daryl.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Really! You sound surprised. It's not the local Murder House or anything, is it?”

 

Daryl chuckled quietly “Naw, nobody's been murdered there that I know.”

 

“Well then it sounds exactly what we want, don't you think? Right amount of rooms, lots of outdoor space, privacy… so long as there isn't a mouldering corpse in a closet I say let's go for it, if you like it?”

 

“Ain't seen inside it yet, but from what I have seen it looks good” he offered, not quite believing that she was being so accommodating to the idea. She hadn't even seen the place yet, but here she was saying that they should take it.

 

“Sure? I can send ya some pictures of it first...” he offered her another chance to back out, but heard her laugh at the other end of the phone “Daryl, I'd move into a one-room shack if it meant I got to live there with you. I'm moving across the world to be with you… I don't care what it looks like… I just want us to be together.”

 

Daryl was quiet for a moment, and Aisling wondered if maybe the line had been lost. “Daryl…?”

 

“I'm here,” he said, his voice low and quiet.

 

“Have I frightened you off?” she asked, nervously.

 

Daryl wished that he had magic arms, which could stretch out the thousands of miles that separated them, and gather her in against his body.  
“Y'aint frightened me anywhere, sweetheart. Wanna be with you. Can't wait for us to be in our home, together, an' I'm kinda' excited that this house might be it.”

 

He told her all about the house, and promised to drive by the following day and take some pictures to send to her after he told the owner that they would take it.

 

_This is it. Us together. Ain't nothing gonna separate us now. Got the girl I love with all my heart, an' she seems to love me too...fuck, how the hell did that happpen._


	34. Chapter 34

**Thanks to everyone who followed/favorited my story.**

 

**As ever, Merle and Daryl aren't mine, and everything else is make-believe.**

 

*.*

 

The September air was crisp with the cool embrace of a quickening fall as Daryl and Shaun heaved the slaughtered buck into the back of Daryl's truck on Sunday morning. They'd been out in the forest since before first light, and had had a good hunt.

Daryl's mood was lighter than it had been in weeks.

_Only one more day 'til my lil' sweetheart's back. Got a place for us to live, took down a good buck, an' Corinne's cookin' us up a feast to get back to. Life's lookin' up, Dixon._

It was a guy at work who had told him about the three bedroom property on the edge of town that his brother's friend was trying to rent out.

Apparently the owner had tried selling the place, but it was a little remote and there wasn't much of a demand for real-estate in Goat Rock at the best of times, so now he was trying to rent it out even though the rental market in Goat Rock wasn't exactly thriving either.

When his colleague had relayed Daryl's interest in the property, a response quickly came back that the owner would drop the rent and give the place a fresh lick of paint  _if_  they moved in right away.

This brought the house well within Daryl's budget, and Merle had agreed to take over the rent on his house, leaving him free to commit to the rent on the new house.

Things were falling into place, finally.

Daryl and Shaun had checked the place out after Aisling had told him to go for it, and he had a real good feeling about it.

The ranch style property, situated on five acres of gently undulating land, would certainly be the nicest house that Daryl had ever lived in. It had a deck that stretched along the rear of the property, facing the woods, and the fall sunlight fell on the cedar sidings, creating a feeling of warmth and peace. There was a fireplace in the living room, a good sized mudroom with a sink where he could clean his kills after hunting, and an office that he thought might be suitable for Aisling to keep her laptop and camera stuff in, unlike her last house where she had piled everything haphazardly on the small desk in the living room.

He'd walked around, taking a ton of weird, out of focus photographs of the rooms and exterior with his phone, and sent them to Aisling, who had giggled to herself at how adorable Daryl was. He had obviously just sent her everything he'd taken without looking through them, including one extreme closeup of Shaun's arm blocking the view of what looked like a bathroom, another of half his boot, and one – inexplicably - of his own ear.

*.*

After they'd dropped the deer carcass with Shaun's butcher friend near Peachtree who was going to joint the meat and also make them up some venison sausage, the two friends sat down to a warming rabbit casserole that Corinne had prepared for them. Daryl was hungrier than he'd felt in ages, and quickly got stuck into the casserole, freshly baked bread, mashed potatoes, green beans and carrots laid out on the table. His appetite had waned in the time that Aisling had been gone, but now that his spirits were up, his belly had woken up too.

"You talked to Aisling lately, Daryl? I'll bet she's super excited for the new place?" Corinne asked him, watching as he scooped a large forkful of rabbit and vegetables into his mouth.

He nodded his head in reply "Spoke to her last night," he explained around the mouthful of food "Didn't get to talk for long though. She's been workin' non fuckin' stop, an' with the time difference an' all…" he trailed off, thinking about how tired she had sounded.

She had spent hours at a photo shoot, then gone straight to a meeting with some director which had taken another couple of hours, and then had another interview immediately afterwards. It was around 4AM her time before she'd been able to call him, and even though she'd tried to sound upbeat for him he could tell she was shattered.

Aisling had completed a week of recording replacement audio that was required both as a matter of course, plus the audio that was required as a result of the rewrite on Wild Geese to accommodate her exit from the show. After leaving the studio each day she'd go to interviews, meetings, or catch-ups with friends, and now she was running from meeting, to interview, to audition she just wanted a good night's sleep.

The non-stop itinerary of meetings, interviews, promo pieces, and photo shoots left little time for anything else, but in between those she had somehow managed to get her belongings organized, hire a management company to arrange the letting of the apartment for her, and arrange for a shipping company to pack and transfer what she wanted to Georgia and store the remainder.

_Where does a lil' thing like her get all that energy from. Girl's gonna be like the walkin' dead when she gets back to me. Gotta look after her, let her rest..._

"Good thing we got all her stuff packed up for her," Shaun said, nodding towards the garage where they'd stored Aisling's belongings from her house. They'd managed to pack them up fairly quickly, now that the paparazzi had left town and were no longer interested in them.

Daryl nodded, and put his fork down on his plate and cleared his throat self-consciously "Wanna say thanks again for that. She's so damn tired… reckon she'd have died of exhaustion of she'd come back an' had to start into all that." He was touched by how much his friends had done for Aisling, and him, since she'd come into his life.

"I mean it," he nodded "means a lot t'me."

Shaun and Corinne both smiled at Daryl, as he ducked his head down and carried on eating, hiding his face which was flushed with embarrassment at this rare show of emotion.

"Hey, you're family, Daryl," Shaun said, reaching out to place a hand on his quiet friend's shoulder for a second, dropping it again before Daryl could get uncomfortable "it's what we do."

*.*

"Maggots? Seriously?"

Aisling was on the phone to Heather as she walked through the dark, rainy London to a restaurant not far from her apartment, reeling from the news that hate mail was still being posted to both her and Daryl at the plantation.

"Yeah… a parcel full of them. The guy who opened them is big into fishing, so he wasn't bothered, but the rest of the office were. One of the guys told me he heard lots of squealing, and all the girls in the office came running out of the room" Aisling heard her sigh over the line "Thank god Andy has come clean now."

Aisling had stopped using Twitter and Instagram because of the venomous outpourings she'd received, and had told Daryl, quite forcefully, that he wasn't to read the vile reader's comments on online news stories about them. It had taken a few days, but eventually he had stopped texting her angry messages telling her that he was going to fly over there and find 'VoiceOfReasonUK' or 'AndyLover69' or whoever and tear their balls off for writing shit about her.

She had stopped reading reader comments a long time ago, finding that anonymity allowed the more troubled people in the world an outlet for their views about her that were was neither healthy nor constructive to engage with.

A critical newspaper review of a performance she could accept, but the 'she's a stupid ugly slut, deserves all she's getting' sort of anonymous comments that Daryl got so riled up over weren't worth reading, never mind getting annoyed about.

Andy's interview with an upmarket magazine had been better than Aisling or Daryl had ever hoped for. He had admitted to having a problem with drugs and alcohol, and to hiring prostitutes, one of whom had gone to the papers with a made-up story about himself and Aisling.

" _I was in a bad place… a really bad place, and I put myself in a situation where people were able to take advantage of that, and in the process people that I care about got hurt._

_There wasn't a grain of truth in anything that newspaper printed. Aisling and I were friends, and nothing more, and now we aren't even that, to be honest._

_I'm going to have to work so fucking hard to get that back… that's if she'll even let me, and if I was her I'm not sure that I could._

_She's a good girl though, Aisling._

_She's smart, and tough… and one of the finest, most professional, and talented actors I've had the privilege of working with. She's also one of the most caring people I've ever met. Her partner has a good woman there, and I hope they'll both be able to forgive me for what my actions caused them to go through."_

Daryl had been surprised to hear what Aisling had read out to him, when Sue gave her an advance of the copy.

_Must have taken some guts, sayin' all that shit to some newspaper. Don't think I'd want the world knowin' my business, 'specially with somethin' like that._

*.*

The low clunking of the landing gear jolted Aisling from her sleep as the Boeing 777 prepared to land in the setting sun at Hartsfield-Jackson in Atlanta. She blinked her eyes repeatedly, trying to shake the exhaustion that had caused her to sleep through almost eight of the nine and a half hours she had been in the air, and as she did an air steward appeared to help her get the seat in her little cubicle into an upright position.

Sitting back down, she pulled her compact mirror from her purse and checked her appearance.

Dark circles lay underneath her eyes, and her skin looked dry and tired.

_Great, I arrive back looking like death warmed up. "Hey, Daryl, here's the corpse you've mistakenly agreed to move in with!"_

She pulled out the little pack of cleansing wipes she had picked up at Heathrow, and quickly wiped her face before slathering on a layer of moisturiser. Then, she put on some lip tint, mascara and a dab of the miracle lightening cream one of the makeup girls had recommended to her under her eyes and put the compact back in her purse.

The wheels touched down on the tarmac and her stomach tightened with nervous anticipation. The last time she had landed here from London she hadn't even known that Daryl existed, and now she was returning to start a life with him.

Aisling wasn't the religious type, but as the air plane taxied it's way to the gate she sent a silent prayer up to whatever higher-power was out there:  _Please, let Daryl and I be as amazing as I think we could be. Please?_

*.*

Daryl shifted nervously from foot to foot as he waited inside the arrivals hall, watching couples reunite around him as different flights arrived in, spilling their passengers through the automatic doors into the arms of their loved ones.

The display showed that her flight had landed twenty minutes ago, but where the hell was she? Had she changed her mind? Was he going to be standing here until janitors started nudging him with their mops, and security came to ask him to go home?

He heard an English voice, then another, as the people next to him welcomed whoever they were waiting for, and asked the woman next to him "This the British Airways flight from London?"

She took a moment from embracing what looked like her son and nodded.

"There was a hold up in baggage reclaim" her son explained over his mother's shoulder "everyone's coming through now though."

Daryl's eyes scanned the people coming through the doors in their droves now, pushing trollies full of baggage, waving at loved ones. He was close to panicking now, his heart racing as his heart started a downward spiral into his stomach, when his ears pricked up at what the mother and son next to him were saying "There she is, Mom, the girl from that show you like. Somethin' about geese?"

He looked at them, at the son pointing towards the doors, then followed his finger to see those beautiful green eyes darting around the large arrivals hall.

Before he knew it, he'd ducked underneath the security cordon and his feet were carrying him towards her, past the trolley she was pushing, piled high with suitcases, to envelop her in his arms, pulling her body tightly to him.

"You're here!" his voice was breathless and broken against her neck, and his hands went up to cup her face so that he could claim her lips in a heartfelt kiss, full of longing, hunger, and hope.

"I'm here," she murmured happily against his lips, before they were hurried along by security.

Daryl took control of the trolley with one hand, as he wrapped the other around her shoulders and held her close to him as he steered them out of the cordoned off area to a space just beyond which was a little quieter.

His aversion to public displays of affection was forgotten as he quickly let go of the trolley's handle and took her face in his hands again. He took a moment to look at her. She looked tired, but happy, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

"I'm home, Daryl," she managed to choke out as the tears threatened to fall "I've come home to you."

She hadn't expected to feel to overwhelmed with emotions as she did, and while she would have ordinarily put them down to hormones or tiredness, there was no escaping what these feelings were caused by. It was love, pure and simple.

He dipped his head and his soft lips met first her left, then her right eyelid, capturing the hot salty tears which spilled out. Then, his mouth moved down to hers in a kiss that let her know that he had missed her as much as she had missed him.

His lips tugged gently at hers, before he pulled back slightly and asked "Ya ready to go to our new home then?"

"I'm ready, Daryl. Let's go home."


	35. Chapter 35

**Thank you to everyone who has favorited/followed this story, and an extra special thanks to anyone who took the time to review!**

**I own neither Daryl nor Merle, and everything else is make believe.**

**Thank you so much for reading!**

 

*.*

 

 

It was dark when Daryl turned the truck off the small tree-lined country road that wound out beyond Goat Rock, and onto the dirt driveway of his and Aisling's new home.

 

_Our home, Ash's n' mine. Fuck, sounds weird, even in my head… but real good. Keep thinkin' I gotta pinch myself, that all this ain't real. Don't think I've ever been happier though._

 

He had hardly slept at all the night before, his mind conjuring up wild scenarios where Aisling's plane would get hijacked and explode, or be flown to a desert island by a crazed evil mastermind who wanted to repopulate the earth, or her car would crash on the way to catch her flight... or she would simply come to her senses and realize that she could do _so_ much better for herself than a life in Goat Rock with Daryl Dixon.

 

Now that she was finally here, in his truck, on the way to their new house, he allowed himself to stop bracing himself for the worst, and relaxed.

The knots in his broad shoulders loosened, and he found himself stealing glances at her when he could, watching as she dozed against the passenger side window, her arm stretched out to allow her fingers to idly graze the side of his thigh.

 

To the casual observer neither Daryl's face, nor his body, betrayed the happiness that filled him and made his stomach flutter, and he appeared as stoic and nonchalant as he ever was. However, every time Aisling roused and looked across at him she couldn't help smiling at the way his eyes were a little wider than usual, his lips twitched up a little more, and the tension that was usually present in his body wasn't there.

 

As he pulled the truck to a stop outside the house he watched Aisling's big, green eyes take in the lamps either side of the front door, which cast a warm glow around the entrance, and the large amount of space around the property. It was bordered by white painted fences that she could just about make out in the absence of any moonlight.

 

“Wait here,” Daryl issued a gruff command and hopped out of the truck before he took her bags from the back and manfully hoisted them into his strong arms. She smiled as she watched him stride up the four steps to the front door, two at a time, unlock it and toss the bags inside.

 

“ _Thank God there's nothing breakable in there”_ she giggled to herself, as he quickly returned to the truck and opened her door for her to get out. His lopsided little squinty smile was shy, his head tilted to the side as he looked at her from under his bangs, and he bit at the inside of his lip as he held his hand out for hers.

 

 

*.*

 

 

As soon as she stepped into the house, Aisling's stomach gave a little flip, as she took in the space, the feeling of warmth and security. The owner had left some furniture there for them, until what she'd had shipped from London arrived, and they'd been able to shop for the other items they would need, so although it was a little sparse it was perfectly habitable and very homely.

 

Daryl tugged gently at her hand, and led her through the cosy living room where thoughts of them curled up together enjoying the warmth of the fire struck them both.

He let his mind wander to a cold winters day some time in their future, where he would come in and light a fire in the grate that would warm her and their children, their skin cold after a day out enjoying the icy, brittle forest. He'd teach them to hunt, and they'd love it out there as much as he did, and afterwards they'd run to their beautiful Momma and she'd make them hot chocolate and warm their little hands in hers.

 

Part of him wanted to ask Aisling if that was what she thought too, but he pushed the idea from his head before he did something stupid like land that question on her after a transatlantic flight and only a few months together.

He didn't let go of her little hand in his though, and pulled her in towards the kitchen “See, there's tons more space than your old place.”

 

There was lots of storage, and a great stove to cook on unlike the cheap, horrible one she'd had at her last place. A table stood in the middle of the room – not squeezed into a corner like her old house – and she immediately pictured having the table full of people, laughing and talking.

 

She could have friends round for meals, or maybe even fill the table with hers and Daryl's kids… but she shook her head as the thought popped into her mind, wondering where it had come from. Aisling wasn't the having-kids kind. Her own mother was enough of a deterrent… what if she ended up as disinterested and uncaring as that?

Briefly, she wondered what Daryl might think if she told him what she was thinking, and she was torn between giggling at the appalled expression he would probably have, and feeling sad because of the same. But, she shoved those thoughts aside and concentrated on the here and now, and allowed him to lead her through the house at breakneck speed.

 

Daryl stopped at the top of the stairs, and opened the door which led immediately to the right.

 

“An' this… this is our room, I reckon,” Daryl said, biting his lower lip nervously as he led her into a large room off the wide hallway. It was the room which had jumped out at him when he had viewed the property, as being somewhere perfect for him and Aisling.

Three large windows lay along the south facing wall, allowing them views of the woods around the house and plenty of sunlight, and there was plenty of room for any additional closet space that Daryl would need to build for them… well, for her really, seeing as how his entire wardrobe could fit easily into one small drawer, and she was a television star whose expansive clothing collection could have filled his old trailer bedroom twice over.

 

The windows that faced the woods didn't offer her much of a view in the dark, but Aisling could already imagine how gorgeous her waking view would be, with her gorgeous redneck lying naked beside her, framed by the trees beyond her window.

 

In the middle of the bedroom sat a large, dark, polished wooden bed, made up with crisp white sheets, a plethora of soft, fluffy pillows and a warm comforter.

 

“Corinne came round, brought beddin' an' stuff' 'til we get some” Daryl explained, gesturing towards the linens that made up the bed.

 

Daryl sent a silent prayer of thanks that Corinne had been there that afternoon, helping him to get the place ready for Aisling.

 

“ _Daryl!” Corinne shrieked from the bedroom door, making him jump in surprise “What are you doing?”_

_He paused, bewildered, as he held the two sleeping bags he was about to spread out across the mattress. “Makin' the damn bed up, what the hell's it look like?”_

 

“ _No!” she yelled, a look of horror on her face as she darted forward to grab the sleeping bags from him._

 

“ _The hell woman? Actin' like I was shittin' on the fuckin' bed or somethin'!”_

_Daryl had no idea what Corinne was so dead set against. The sleeping bags were clean… sort of, and they were better than the bare mattress, weren't they? He hadn't bought any bedding, figuring that Aisling would want to be involved in that kind of 'woman decision', as Merle called it, and short of using the old blanket from the back of his truck he had nothing else._

 

“ _Aisling is not spending her first night here on yours and Merle's stinky old sleeping bags,” Corinne said firmly, bundling the sweaty blue nylon bags into her arms with a look of faint disgust on her face. “I will go and get some bedding from home for you to use,” and with that she had swept out of the room._

 

Aisling sat down on the bed and bounced slightly, testing the mattress, which was soft, but cushioned and springy. It was perfectly comfortable, but she was eager to have their own virgin mattress, that nobody had ever slept on before. They had spent all their relationship so far on other people's beds, where other bodies had caused the dips and gulleys that their own bodies had adjusted to, but this would do just fine for now.

 

Daryl sat down next to her, and bounced slightly himself. “This ok for ya, 'til we get a new one?” he asked, eyeing her nervously from underneath the dark hair that had fallen in his eyes.

 

“It's perfect. It's all absolutely perfect, Daryl. I was thousands of miles away, and you found us a home. You did all this for us, and I love you so, so much.”

 

Aisling reached out and hooked one finger underneath his scruffy chin, like she had the first time they kissed, and tilted his head up so that she could look into those gorgeous blue eyes, noticing his pupils blow out darkly and his tongue dart out quickly to lick his lips.

Unlike that first time, it wasn't Aisling who made the first move. Daryl's hands went to either side of her face, and quickly pulled her closer so that he could press his soft, warm lips to hers, hungry for the sensation of their mouths moving against each others again. As his tongue pushed past her teeth to tangle with hers he exhaled noisily through his nose, his body struggling to operate his lungs and heart properly in the heat of his desire for her.

 

The weeks spent apart felt like months… no, years too long, and his body ached for hers as though he'd been trapped in a sealed chamber, then released, gasping for oxygen.

 

He pushed her back onto the bed, her gasp of surprise and desire spilling into his mouth as he continued to kiss her, his hot, wet lips frantically claiming hers in a kiss that said everything about how he felt about her absence, and what he was feeling now that she was back with him.

 

Aisling's fingers curled into the soft, long hair at the base of his neck, and her breath caught in her throat as his mouth moved to nip and suck at her throat. “Missed ya so much, sweetheart,” he rasped against her skin “love ya like crazy, y'know that?”

 

Aisling tried to tell Daryl that she felt the same, as he tilted her head back and his lips moved to suck at the smooth skin behind her ear gently, but all functioning speech had left her. Instead, she just sighed and breathed out incoherent words.

 

“Love you..” she was able to gasp eventually as his mouth softly pulled her skin into his mouth and his big, rough hands slid up along her denim-clad legs until they landed at her hips.

 

The low growl that escaped his throat as he tore open her pants made Aisling's hips buck up towards his, desperate to feel him against her. His rough hands pulled down her jeans and panties, exposing her fully to the gaze of those intense blue eyes as they raked over her body.

 

“Gotta taste ya again, darlin'… been too damn long” he groaned as he grabbed behind her knees and pulled both her legs over his broad, strong shoulders. He dipped his head and sucked in a mouthful of the soft skin on her thigh, teasing the flesh with his tongue before he moved his head up, slowly nipping, sucking, and kissing his way up to her wet folds.

 

She had a lot less hair there than she'd had before. The little triangle above her lips was gone, replaced with a thin strip which was the perfect width for his nose to trail through, making her inhale sharply. He dipped his head and lapped a long stroke along her slit, parting her with his tongue, and buried his face greedily in her wet pussy.

She was soft, sweet and juicy like a perfectly ripe peach.

 

Her thighs tightened and she emitted a deep, low moan as she reached down and pushed his head harder against her.

Daryl worked his tongue and his fingers to make her tremble, and he felt a shiver run through her as she bit back a moan, and then after only a few minutes her breath hitched, her pelvis lifted even higher and her whole body shook. Tremors racked her body in time with his tongue and she yelped his name out in a broken gasp.

Daryl relaxed his tongue's assault on her, but continued lavishing attention on her until she gently guided his head away and her hips relaxed with a contented sigh.

 

“Oh fuck… Daryl… come here,” she breathed, and grasped his hair in her hands to pull his mouth up to hers. She tasted herself on his lips and tongue as he kissed her, deep and hungry.

 

As he pulled her shirt up impatiently, and tugged at the cups of her bra to release those delicious, full breasts of hers, he felt her little fingers trace their way down across his stomach towards his pants.

 

Aisling's fingers dipped just under the waistband of Daryl's pants and tickled the top of his pubic hair. He involuntarily sucked in a breath, and she smiled at his response. “Still ticklish, Mr Dixon, hmm?” He answered her with a low groan.

Her hand sank deeper into his pants, never touching his growing erection, but sending sweet, tingling twinges its way. Aisling's leg wormed between his, and created delicious friction against his cock which was straining against his pants, her soft, full breasts warming his chest.

 

He couldn't control himself any longer, and tore her shirt and bra from her body, before doing the same to his own clothing, with the help of Aisling's frantic hands.

 

His mouth, his tongue, his teeth… they were everywhere - her mouth, her nipples, her neck - greedy for the taste of her skin.

 

And then, he was sliding against her wetness, working up the strength he would need to last more than a minute inside her.

 

_Fuck, gonna be like a virgin on prom night. Girl get's me so out of fuckin' control… damn!_

 

 

Aisling whimpered, and reached between their bodies to grasp him in her hand, sending fireworks through his body which was already like a lit powder keg above her. She guided him towards her pussy and moved her hips in an unspoken plead for him to enter her.

 

“Ain't gonna last long, Ash” he warned her, as he lined himself up against her.

 

“Don't care” she gasped, “just want… just want...” She couldn't speak any more.

Her mouth and hands took over when her voicebox failed, and she gripped his broad shoulders, pulling him to her, trailing her tongue across his collarbone.

 

Daryl slowly pushed the tip of himself inside her, releasing a shudder of pleasure as he felt her warm, wet heat squeeze around him.

 

“That what ya want, sweetheart, huh? Ya want me to fuck ya?” he growled, his voice deep and thick with want.

Aisling whimpered her agreement, and Daryl threw his head back and groaned “Fuck!” as he pushed himself deep inside her tight walls.

 

Slowly, he moved inside her, drawing himself almost completely out before plunging back into the warm embrace of her. Gradually, he allowed himself to move faster, grunting noisily with every push deeper, until his balls were slapping against her ass. The heat in his groin tightened them to the point of no return, gradually building to a breaking point, and his body spasmed to a climax alongside hers, their breathing ragged and punctuated with soft, muffled swearing and the other's names breathed against each other's hot, sweaty skin.

 

As Daryl collapsed down, his warm body heavy on top of hers, she snaked her hands around his shoulders as she peppered his shoulder with soft, open mouthed kisses. He reciprocated, sucking lazily along her collar bone, as he worked his way towards her face, and their mouths collided, sloppily.

 

“Missed you so fuckin' much, Ash” he breathed against her mouth as he struggled to find the muscles in his body that he needed to raise himself off her and avoid crushing her “love ya more than I got words to tell ya”.

When he'd finished adjusting himself to lean on his side so that he could look at her, one arm under, and the other resting heavily across her the soft dip of her waist, she leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his unbelievably soft lips.

 

“I missed you too, Daryl,” Aisling nuzzled against his throat, and pulled herself closer to him. His arms wrapped around her, drawing her closer, so she could hear his heart hammering away in his chest.

 

They were quiet for a few moments, as their breathing evened out, and both were close to sleep.

“Love you, Daryl” Aisling whispered against the sparse hair on his chest.

“Love you too, Ash,” Daryl's voice came low and sleepy from above her head, his skin vibrating against her ear as he spoke.

 

The September wind swirled around the property in the woods, whistling through the trees and swirling great gusts of leaves around outside, but Aisling and Daryl were oblivious to anything going on outside of their warm bed.

With their arms wrapped around each other, they fell into a deep, deserved, dreamless sleep.

 

*.*

 

Aisling squinted against the low sun which shone directly into her eyes, and whimpered as she buried her face into Daryl's armpit. His comforting scent of forest, motor oil and sweat from last night's exertions filled her senses, and she would have fallen immediately back into the warm embrace of sleep if she wasn't for the pleasant realization that she was back in the warm embrace of Daryl's arms.

 

_If the heating ever fails, I don't need to worry about getting cold. My man's a walking furnace!_

 

As she lay there, enjoying the feel of Daryl's hot – in more ways than one – naked body pressed against hers, Aisling ran through a mental list of things she wanted to do today.

She wanted to have a proper look around the property, and she wanted to do some grocery shopping. Apart from that, the only other pressing engagement she had was with the hot, protective man currently sleepily nuzzling against her neck.


	36. Chapter 36

I love hearing what you guys think – what works, what doesn't work – and I appreciate it when someone takes the time to write.

As ever, Merle and Daryl aren't mine, and everything else is entirely fictional.

***

 

It was a cold, wet and windy late September night when Shaun stood up in Aisling and Daryl's kitchen and held his beer bottle up to everyone gathered around the table.

Daryl groaned, but Aisling reached across and squeezed his hand, giggling a quiet “shhh!” at him. 

“Aww hell, we don't gotta sit here listenin' to fuckin' speeches, do we?” Merle grumbled from across the table, but a broad smile spread across his face on seeing Daryl's discomfort as a slow blush spread up his cheeks when he realized what Shaun was probably going to say, and he settled back into his chair beside Heather, nodding at Shaun “'pologies, Shaun. Carry on. Wanna see how red my lil' brother's face can get.”

Shaun laughed and rubbed his face with his hand. Unaccustomed as he was to doing this kind of thing, the beers he'd had over the evening and the changes he'd observed in his best friend over the last few months made him want to mark the occasion somehow.

Clearing his throat, he raised his beer again.  
“Daryl an' Aisling, first of all I wanna thank y'all for a great night. My wife's a great cook” he nodded at Corinne, who blushed happily from her chair beside him, “but that feast y'all served up is gonna take some beatin'. We're all gonna be comin' round lots more, y'know that, right?” 

Merle shouted out a “Damn right!”, while Chuck joined in with a loud “Booyah!”

Aisling looked across at Daryl, and he nodded at her.  
“That pie was one of the best damn things I ever ate” he said quietly, as he winked at her from beneath the hair which had fallen in his eyes.  
Aisling smiled in thanks at everyone's compliments. Her grandmother's steak and Guinness pie had kept generations of O'Briens contented and well fed, and Aisling was glad to have been able to follow her Nana's recipe and share the comfort food she'd enjoyed growing up, with her new friends.

Shaun watched their quiet interaction for a moment, smiling, then carried on.

“Now, I think if anyone had told us back in June that Daryl here would be hookin' up with a hot tele-”

Corinne coughed, loudly, and smirked up at her husband, who laughed and nodded,  
“… would be hookin' up with a talented television star, I think we'd all agree that that just didn't seem likely. But here we all are, an' not only did he hook up with her, he somehow managed to persuade her to move in with his redneck ass!”

Daryl huffed as everyone around the table laughed at Shaun's comments.  
“'Laugh At Daryl Night', is it?” he grumbled, but his mouth twitched up at the corners, stifling a smile. 

Every damn thing he's sayin' is true. Don't know how I fuckin' managed it, but I'm the luckiest man in Georgia.

“Brother, I'm real happy for ya,” Shaun continued, pointing his raised bottle at Daryl, “an' Aisling… can't tell ya how happy I am to welcome ya, officially, to Goat Rock. To Daryl an' Aisling!” 

“To Daryl and Aisling!”

As wine glasses clinked against beer bottles, Daryl reached over and laid his arm over Aisling's shoulders. Emboldened a little by beer, and the warmth he felt seeping through his body as he glanced around the table at the little scene playing out in the kitchen… in his and Aisling's kitchen... he gently pulled her closer and softly pressed his lips against hers, briefly, before he raised his own beer bottle to her glass and knocked them together.  
“To us, sweetheart.” 

“Woah, woah, woah!” Merle exclaimed, pulling out his chair as he frowned and looked underneath the table. He patted his jeans pockets, then looked around the room with his forehead furrowed.

Heather looked at his confused expression and asked “What are you looking for, Merle?” 

Merle rubbed the back of his head with his hand and bit his lip as he shook his head, “I was just wonderin' where my baby brother left his goddamn balls!”

Everyone at the table, apart from Daryl, erupted into laughter. 

Now that he wasn't drinking so much, and was clean, Merle was a different man. The group around the table knew that there was no malice behind his words – it was just Merle being Merle, dealing with the 'touchy feely shit' going on around him the only way he knew how – but as he caught his brother's stare directed at him he raised his hands in appeasement, chuckling as he did so.

“Aw hell, y'know I'm only havin' fun, lil' brother. To tell ya the truth, I'm happier than a tick on a fat dog seein' you both shacked up together. This Irish Colleen's the best thing that could'a ever happened to ya'.”

Daryl's expression softened a little, and he bit at his lip as he nodded at Merle in quiet appreciation at his words. It wasn't often that his brother spoke from the heart, never mind in front of an audience, and it touched him more than he would be willing to admit.

As Corinne and Heather cleared the plates from the table, Aisling leaned in closer to Merle and whispered “That was lovely, thank you.”

Merle scoffed, hiding his embarrassment behind a broad grin. “If Darlina ever finds them balls of his, ask him to have a look an' see if mine are rollin' round there too, would ya sugartits?”

*.*

The conversation bubbled in the warm sitting room as everyone gathered in front of the fire for another few beers or glasses of wine. Merle spoke animatedly about his new job, which led to engine-talk among the men.

Corinne, Heather and Aisling sat close together on one of the new couches that had been delivered last week, talking excitedly about a book which Aisling held in her hands. 

“This is one of my favorite books, of all time. I'm so happy they're making it into a movie!” Corinne said as she stroked her fingers almost reverentially across the cover of the well-thumbed paperback, “And I'm so excited for you to be in it!”

Aisling would be leaving for New Orleans in a couple of weeks, to play a nice-but-dim stripper with a pet cockatoo in a long-awaited screen adaptation of John Kennedy Toole's 'A Confederacy Of Fools'. She didn't have the biggest role ever, but was thrilled to have been cast among big-name stage and screen actors, all eager to be associated with the hugely anticipated movie, which had been bubbling away, never quite getting anywhere, for decades.

“How long is the shoot?” Heather asked, thumbing through the book which she hadn't read, but was definitely going to now.

“Only two weeks for me,” Aisling smiled, glad that she wouldn't be spending too long away from home, but would get to flex her acting muscles on a, hopefully, worthy role. “And Daryl's going to drive down and join me for the last couple of days, so we can spend the weekend there.”

Heather and Corinne both caught Aisling's blissful, faraway stare, as she watched Daryl explain something to the other men, which involved wild hand gestures and a waggly head movement. 

“Things are going well for you two then?” Heather asked, making Aisling snap her attention back to her friends, giggling self-consciously at having been caught doing her 'my boyfriend is so dreamy' face again.  
She nodded, smiling “It's been amazing. He's amazing. I just… I can't believe I'm so lucky.”

*.*

The three weeks since Aisling had come back to Goat Rock, and moved in with Daryl, were like nothing either of them had ever experienced before.  
Daryl had never spent much time in any woman's company, never mind lived with one, so he had no gauge to go by. All he knew was that he was happier than he had ever been in his life, and that he never, ever wanted to be apart from the woman who had come into his life, turned it upside down, and made it worth living. 

He fell in love with her a little more every day. 

Honestly, he was still reeling from what had happened in the short time since that first day when he had seen Aisling talk to his brother in the Goat Tavern, and now.  
She was the incredibly pretty actress that his brother had struck up conversation with… that they had spoken to in the diner…who had invited him to see a band in Atlanta, and he had invited to Sean's house for the July 4th celebrations.  
In the time they had known each other they had had more ups and downs than he'd ever thought two people might have had.

But even still, she was here, with him, in their home. She would jump up to greet him with kisses from those soft, full lips when he came in, and he spent his nights with her her smooth, warm naked body curled around his in their bed at night.

The women he had fucked before… as ashamed as he was to admit it, even to himself, their couplings had been as intimate as his hand wrapped around his own penis. They were drunken fumblings, that may as well have been with a pillow, which he doubted lasted any longer than it would have taken for him to jerk himself off, and emotionally meant just as much to him.

Everything was different with Aisling.

The sex was fantastic.  
More than fantastic, actually. It was mindblowing.  
He'd never thought of sex as being anything more than scratching an itch, but with Aisling it was a million times more than that, and he knew now what all the fuss was about.  
Yes, even the slightest raise of her eyebrow at him had him more turned on than he'd ever been in his life, but it went beyond the incredible pleasure of her mouth on him, and the way he felt when he slid inside her. 

Sex was a connection. A meeting not only of skin, and bodies, but also of minds, and hearts.

When their bodies met Daryl's heart beat faster than it ever had before.  
When her lips met his, his blood rushed through his body like water through a poorly-constructed dam.  
Aisling was the only person who had ever made the inner workings of his body misbehave, and the only person who caused the rush of feelings that rushed through him and made him tell her that he loved her at every opportunity he could.

Daryl was getting better at dealing with feelings.  
He had grown from the emotionally stunted man who had met Aisling back in the Summer. Whereas he had once struggled to ask her along to Shaun's July 4th celebrations, he now spent an inordinate amount of time wondering when it might be appropriate to ask Aisling to marry him.

He'd never thought he'd ever marry, never feeling the inclination, nor the need, to tie himself to somebody else. Daryl had managed thirty six years without wanting to spend longer than ten minutes with another person, and here he was wanting to spend his life with this woman who had come into his life just a few months ago and turned everything upside down.

They hadn't even been together six months, but she had moved across continents to be with him. That meant something, didn't it?  
She loved him. He knew that.  
And he loved her. 

When he had first realized that he wanted to marry Aisling, back when she had been working on Wild Geese, part of him worried that it was perhaps some kind of cave man instinct, to piss up her leg and mark her as his territory. But the more he thought about it, the more he knew that what he felt wasn't a territorial thing.  
Being with her made all the broken parts of his life disappear, so all he knew was the here and now, and the completeness that he felt with her.  
Aisling made him complete.  
When he looked at her he felt love, yes, but he also felt feelings of belonging, and an all encompassing urge to protect her and make her happy.

 

But was she ready for some asshole from Nutsack, Georgia to declare that he wanted to spend the rest of his poor, sweaty, good-for-nothin' days with her?  
Would she palm him off with a “let's take it easy for now”, all the while wondering how in the hell she might extricate herself from this horrible situation that she had considered barely little more than a fling? She was an actor, after all. It was part of her job to switch emotions on and off, and to create a fantasy where none existed.

Or would she freak out and run, aghast that he had pushed what they currently had towards something she wasn't comfortable with?  
She was only twenty five. Shouldn't she be out there enjoying life, rather than settling for a life of interminable dullness in Goat Rock with some scarred – physically, and emotionally – redneck?

For the umpeenth time since she had returned, Daryl watched Aisling as she slept and the thoughts tumbled through his head. One minute he was ready to shake her awake and ask her to marry him right now, and the next he was swallowing the urge down and putting it off for another while.

He decided to wait until Christmas, and see how the situation was between then then.  
She could have left him by December, waking up one morning and deciding that a life in Goat Rock, with a no-prospect mechanic, wasn't what she wanted for her life.

Or, she could still be here, happily belching along loudly with him as they drank beer on the couch in front of a movie, each seeing how far through the alphabet they could get before the belch ran out, or sneaking up on him when he least expected it, yanking his shirt up, and blowing raspberries on his back or his tummy. 

As unlikely as it seemed to him at times, come Christmas Aisling could still occasionally wake him in the morning with her warm, wet mouth around his cock, and his sleepy, waking gaze would lock on her big green eyes looking up at him from between his thighs, her long dark hair tickling the skin on his thighs as her tongue teased and her head bobbed.

If he asked her now she might say yes, but as far as he was concerned she was more likely to say no. So, Daryl decided to wait, and bide his time.  
As he had thought before they got together, in his mind it was better to wait without laying himself emotionally bare before her, than ask her now and not have those few weeks left together.


	37. Chapter 37

**It's been so long! What with the holidays, a vacation, and work, this little story fell by the wayside.**

**I'm back now though, and promise to update more regularly.**

**This chapter is heavy on the ol' smut, so be warned.**

**And, as ever, I don't own Daryl or Merle.**

**Thank you everyone who subscribed/gave kudos/left comments x**

*.*

" _Halfway there. Be with u around 9_ "

Daryl hit send on his text to Aisling and carried on with his steak sandwich. Three hours into his drive to New Orleans, he had pulled off the interstate at Evergreen, Alabama and got himself a coffee and a sandwich in a truck stop Arby's.

He had gotten out of work early – given his impressive work ethic, he'd been prepared to work through to closing, but Shaun had insisted that he leave early so that he didn't arrive with Aisling at midnight – so he was due to arrive at her hotel in New Orleans just after nine.

The truck stop was pretty busy, with truckers, business men and families all stopped for dinner, and as he ate his sandwich Daryl looked around him.

This was his first time setting foot outside of Georgia, and if he was honest it was both a thrill and an anticlimax at the same time. Disappointingly, it looked just like his home state, but the fact that he was out here, on his own, driving out to meet his girl, sent butterflies fluttering around in his stomach.

Any wanderings he'd undertaken in the past had been at Merle's behest, and he had simply been along for the ride. This time, he had chosen to make the journey, and the destination was the only one he'd ever been excited to travel towards.

He'd be with Aisling in three hours.

As he ate, he watched the family at the table next to him. The mom and Dad tried hard to get their youngest kid to stop pulling the lettuce out of his wrap, but the kid refused, and threatened a tantrum until the mom said that she would call 'Uncle John', who would be so disappointed that he didn't eat his vegetables they would just have to turn right around and drive back home.

Daryl daydreamed about Aisling telling their own kids off like that, using the threat of 'Uncle Merle' as a way to make them eat their greens, but he couldn't imagine any kid seeing spending time with Uncle Merle as any kind of reward. He couldn't picture anyone getting excited enough about seeing his asshole of a brother to eat food that they hated, so he stored 'Uncle Merle' away in the threat, rather than reward, part of his brain he'd been using a lot lately to store useful information on raising his and Aisling's kids.

After almost two weeks apart Daryl was chomping at the bit to be close to Aisling again. The house had been too quiet, too tidy, without her.

The rooms were of their home remained as he left them when he went to bed. No shoes toed off into the ideal places for tripping over, no discarded stockings or panties thrown around with gay abandon after their lovemaking.

His arms felt empty at night, and no amount of masturbation had satisfied the urge that the thought of her built inside him.

Tonight though, he'd be with her, and he would sure as hell be making up for lost time with his girl.

*.*

_Fuck, this hotel is fancy._

Aisling had told him it was nice, but he hadn't been prepared for the sheer opulence of the place.

He'd stayed in motels before, when he was on the road with Merle, but comparing them with this place was like putting a pickled pigs foot next to one of the cupcakes that Corinne sent into the shop sometimes, with the swirly frosting on top.

The mosaic floor and the chandeliers above his head weren't like anything he'd ever experienced before. Part of him wanted to take his time, and soak up the sights, sounds and smell of the place, as well dressed men and women milled around, wafting an air of money around them as though they sweated the stuff out through their pores. The other part of his head – the part which won out – wanted to get up to the 14th floor and get his girl naked as quickly as possible.

As he waited for the elevator to arrive, he watched the couple waiting with him. The man was somewhere in his sixties, Daryl guessed, and the woman with him looked to be around the same age as Aisling. The man wore a wedding ring, but she didn't.

"Can't you call her? Tell her that you'll be home on Saturday?" the woman quietly asked the man as they waited beside him. Her hand was clasped around his bicep, but he shrugged her off.

"No, Lauren, I can't," the man snapped at her "You knew what the situation was, so deal with it. There are plenty of other girls out there who aren't so fucking needy."

The elevator arrived and Daryl took his place inside it with the, now awkward, couple. The girl's heavily made-up eyes focused on the floor, and Daryl was fairly sure he could see tears brimming in them.

He felt their eyes on him as they traveled up through the tower. They were probably wondering what a redneck like him was doing in their hotel, in his jean jacket with Merle's old leather vest on top, with the wings on the back.

Maybe they thought he was here to rob them, or do something else illegal.

He leaned back against the rear wall of the elevator, his arms folded across his chest, and studied the couple from beneath his bangs. They were obviously uncomfortable in his presence. The woman hugged her arms around herself, and the man stood further into the corner, away from her – with no interest in protecting her from any perceived threat – as the rough backwoods man eyed them with an unflinching stare.

As the elevator stopped at his floor, Daryl moved to leave but then took a second to look back at the couple. He was ready to step out into the corridor when the excitement, anticipation and I-have-the-hottest-chick-on-earth-waiting-for-me-right-down-the-hall bravado he was feeling made him turn around and address the girl who was silently dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a tissue.

She reminded him a little of Aisling. An Aisling that could have existed in some parallel universe, where they had never met, who wasn't as confident in herself, and wasn't anywhere near as badass as his girl was.

He leaned back into the elevator slightly and fixed the girl with a stare.

"Life's short, sweetheart. Don't waste more of it than ya already have on a prick like him. Find someone ya love, and who loves ya back."

"Why, you young punk, I've never been spoken to like-"

The door closed on the couple, shutting off whatever the man was saying, and Daryl strolled happily down the corridor towards Aisling's room. That was his good deed done for the day, he guessed.

*.*

The two short knocks on the door, followed by a quick double knock, made Aisling sit up from the couch, where she had been trying to occupy her mind by reading the room service menu again. That was Daryl's knock.

At last!

She leaped up from the seating area, but took a second to check her reflection in the mirror above the desk. She had worn a simple black dress for the occasion of their reunion. One without zippers, or too many buttons, which showed off her curves and was very easily removed. Aisling rushed to the door, opened it a fraction, and caught sight of those beautiful blue eyes staring into hers.

She threw the door fully open.

"Daryl! You're here!"

He stepped into the room, his eyes raking over her body, his eyes dark with want, and before she knew it that surprisingly soft mouth was on hers in a passionate greeting. His hands went to her hair, holding her head where he needed it, where he could plunder her soft, warm mouth with his tongue.

"M'here, sweetheart" he mumbled against her open mouth, then settled in to reclaim it with his.

Pushing the door closed with his foot, he gathered Aisling up by her thighs so that the center between her legs pushed against him as she wrapped her legs around his hips.

 _Fuck, I'm ready for this. Been far too fuckin' long_.

Looking around the room, all he could see was the couch and made it his destination, but as his mouth slid down Aisling's neck, sucking and nipping a light path to the spot behind her ear that got her all fired up, she gasped "Bedroom, Daryl… through there..."

She waved an arm towards the door beside them, and Daryl needed no further encouragement before he stumbled to the door, Aisling still wrapped around his body, and crashed into the room.

He dropped her onto the bed, a little more roughly than he had intended to, and stifled a chuckle as she let out a little squeal of surprise.

"Quite the eager beaver, aren't you," Aisling deadpanned, raising an eyebrow in amusement as Daryl grabbed the hem of her dress in both hands and yanked it up her body, tugging it up over her hips, and her breasts, then over her head.

"Oww!" he heard her squeal from inside the fabric bunched around her face "hang on a second!" She pushed his hands away and extricated her head from the dress, untangling her hair from the buttons at the back.

 _So much for this being an easily removable choice_.

"Shit, sorry," Daryl breathed, rubbing his hands over his face as he took a moment to catch his breath. Her beautiful face reemerged, adorned with the sexiest smirk he'd ever seen, and she tossed the dress out onto the floor, leaving her in a matching set of pale gray silky underwear that he'd never seen on her before. It was trimmed with silver colored lace, and on each hip her panties tied with a silver ribbon which he was looking forward to untying very fucking soon.

He dipped his head and buried his face between the smooth sloping flesh of her breasts, which strained against the bra that was totally in his way.

Not wanting to have to toss another bra in the garbage, especially one that was brand new and she really liked, Aisling took it upon herself to remove the article of clothing which was offending Daryl enough to make him growl at the barrier between his mouth and her soft, pliant flesh.

Tossing it to the floor, to join her dress, she breathed out "better?" and he replied with a low moan as his mouth sucked the hard, puckered flesh of a pink nipple into his mouth.

_Goddamn... back where I belong. Ain't never known titties could feel like like fuckin' home before. So perfect… so damn fuckin' pretty._

His tongue, lips and teeth lavished each stiff peak with attention, cupping and squeezing each breast as he did so, before his mouth moved back up, along her body, to her lips.

Aisling twisted her fingers into the long, soft hair at the nape of his neck, dizzy with the pleasure that Daryl's mouth never failed to send surging through her.

As he kissed her hungrily, his hands slid down her sides to her hips, and with a firm tug at the ribbons there her panties opened. He paused for a moment, and he held the tiny little scrap of deliciously damp fabric to his nose and mouth briefly, inhaling the scent of her, before he tossed it to the floor.

Aisling spread her hands across Daryl's broad shoulders and gently pulled him, so that he was lying with his back on the soft, luxurious bed.

"Would you look at that," she whispered, stretching her arms up above her head as she straddled him, allowing her lovers eyes to drink in the sight of her body above him. She bit her lower lip coquettishly, and smiled down at him "I'm naked!"

Daryl's eyes followed his rough hands appreciatively as they ran down her smooth skin, and smirked "So y'are."

"And you, Mr. Dixon, are wearing _far_ too many clothes."

She began to unbutton the blue and gray plaid shirt that he was wearing. Starting from the bottom, she slowly undid the buttons one-by-one, until she was able to smooth the shirt over the gorgeous expanse of his shoulders, revealing the soft, sparse hair on his chest.

He went to grab her hands, to pull her back against him, but she gently slapped his hands away and giggled as she began to work on his belt buckle.

"Patience…." she whispered, and was rewarded with a growl that came from deep in his throat.

"Gonna kill me, girl."

When she had his jeans and his black boxer briefs at his knees, she scooted down and unlaced his boots. After pulling them and his socks off, she stripped him of the rest of his clothes, and slowly climbed back up his body to reclaim her position sitting on the smooth, tight planes of his lower abdomen.

She began to move her hips, slowly, feeling his pubic hair scratch and tickle her thighs as she slid herself down further.

"Did you miss me" she asked, finally rubbing herself along the warm, hard, velvety length of him.

"Mmmhmmm," he groaned, and nodded as he reached up to play with her breasts again, his esophagus unable to allow any coherent words out right at that moment.

"I missed you too," she moaned as he latched onto her nipple again, "I had to imagine your mouth on me to get to sleep."

Daryl's head jerked up from her breasts and he fixed her with a stare. "Ya… ya, thought about me an..."

Words failed him.

_Is my girl tellin' me she rubbed one out, thinkin' 'bout me?_

_Fuck, she is._

_Ain't that the hottest goddamned thing I ever heard._

Aisling continued to move against Daryl slowly, rhythmically stroking her hot, wet pussy along his now throbbing dick.

She bit her lip and nodded, "Didn't have you here, did I? I had to make do with my fingers."

Daryl let out a low groan at her words, more turned on than he'd ever recalled being before, and his fingers tightened around her tiny waist, pressing into the soft flesh there.

"Ya touched yourself, thinkin' 'bout me?"

She paused her movements for a moment, and smiled down at his face, a coy smile on her lips and a growing blush on her cheeks "Didn't you?"

Daryl snorted, and raised his head to between her breasts again, rubbing his face in the soft flesh there where she wouldn't see the redness spreading up his own face.

"Damn near rubbed m'self raw, thinkin' 'bout ya. Weren't the same though…. prefer the real thing."

Aisling looked down at the dark, messy head that nestled in the hollow of her breasts, and smiled at his admission.

_Fuck, I love this man so much._

She took a firm grip of the same thick, hard penis he had just admitted to manipulating at the thought of her, and angled it at her entrance.

When she lowered her body down, engulfing Daryl within her warm, tight, wet folds, he threw his head back and closed his eyes as he hissed out her name.

"Feels too fuckin' good, Ash. Fuck…so damn tight!" he breathed his words out into the hot, empty space between their bodies.

Despite the intensity with which they had first embraced, they slowed things down now, and it was with a slow, steady determination that Daryl thrust his hips up into the warm, wet, tightness of her.

_So wet… for me. So tight. All mine..."_

Daryl's balls drew up against his body as the tingling sensations of climax began to course through him.

"Gonna come for me, Ash, huh?" he grunted against her neck as he pulled her close to him.

"Mmm," she breathed, and nodded as best as her coordination would allow, as the same pleasurable sensations sent fireworks through every nerve ending in her body "so close, Daryl, soooo close...".

She pulled his upper body up so that they sat chest-to-chest on the bed, and their mouths collided in a messy, uncoordinated kiss.

Her hands went to his face and held it close to hers, her fingers spreading across the rough scruff of his whiskers, and as the pleasure made her tumble over the edge of cognizance she gasped "I love you, Daryl… I love you so much!" against his parted lips.

She felt him pulse and twitch hot spurts inside her, as they came together.

Daryl placed hot, open mouthed kisses on her cheeks, her eyelids, and her forehead as his climax subsided.

"Love ya', Ash" he mumbled against her mouth, his body unable to do much anything other than pull her towards him at this moment as he panted, trying to regain control over his breathing.

"Our first hotel fuck," she whispered against the soft skin of his neck, nuzzling against him.

"First hotel fuck, ever," Daryl admitted, twisting her around so that he could pull her down to embrace her in his arms properly. As Aisling lay her head on his chest, listening to his heart pounding inside him, she smiled, and traced her fingers through the sparse hair of his chest down to his stomach.

Her big green eyes met his, as he caught his breath. "You've never gotten down an' dirty in a hotel before? Not even when it was you and Merle out there…?"

Daryl shook his head, then pressed his mouth down to Aisling's forehead in a satisfied kiss.

"Told ya. Two times, in or against the truck... can't remember exactly, but that's it. No hotels, no motels, no nothin'..."

His blue eyes met hers in an intense stare "You're the first woman I ever wanted to be with... You ain't some jerk-off substitute, who filled a gap. First girl I ever wanted to get close to… felt anythin' for, ever. Only girl I ever loved."

Aisling leaned up to press her lips to his, and Daryl sighed happily against her.

"Spent so many nights tryin' not to listen' to Merle an' whatever woman he'd taken back, an' I'd lay there with a pillow over my damn head, tryin' hard not to hear nothin'. It weren't what I wanted. Had opportunities, but I didn't want that," he kissed her forehead, before he continued "was happy enough to jus' scratch an itch that couple of times… ain't ever thought about a woman like the way I think about you. Thought for a while maybe there was somethin' wrong with me, that I wasn't chasin' pussy all over like Merle was… an' then I met ya, an' you were all I ever wanted."

She removed her head from his chest, and propped herself up on one elbow to look down at his handsome face. She reached out and softly ran her fingers across his forehead, smoothing his hair back so that she could look into those beautiful blue eyes of his.

"As we're being honest," she said quietly, moving her fingers to run across the soft, smooth planes of his stomach, and laid her head down on his chest "I didn't think you'd go for me. I didn't even think you liked me very much, when we met in the diner that day, with Merle. And after seeing you with Cassie… well, I was this common-or-garden brunette, not flashy, or done-up… I thought that you and Merle had your hands full with a lot of girls already, and they weren't girls like me."

Daryl snorted "Ain't nothin' _common-or-garden_ 'bout ya, Ash. First night I ever saw you, in the Tavern, talkin' to Merle,,, I couldn't take my damn eyes off ya. Wanted ya' to be mine, but that aint' the way my life works, so I put ya' out of my head." He swallowed, then carried on "Then we met at the diner, an' the Plantation… every time I was talkin' to ya I was fallin' harder an' you were wormin' your damn way into my head like nobody I ever met before, but still I didn't think anythin' would ever happen, an' I didn't allow myself to do anythin' 'bout it. Even after we went to Atlanta, an' went to Sean's house for July 4th, I thought ya had higher standards than some no-mark redneck."

Aisling was quiet for a moment, letting Daryl's quiet words sink in, then she twisted her head to look up at him, fixing his blue eyes with her green ones.

"Why on earth would you think I wouldn't be interested in you? I was sending all my best 'I'm interested!' vibes your way."

"Googled ya. Saw you an' your ex… that French pri-… guy. Didn't see how you'd want the likes of me when you were used to rock stars an' actors an' shit."

She twisted around so that she was able to reach up to cup his jaw in her hand, stroking her slender fingers along the scruffy hair there, and sighed, sadly. "I wish I'd known what you were thinking back then."

He reached up to take her hand, and moved it to his mouth so that he could press his lips against her soft palm. "Still don't know how I manged it, but you fallin' in love with me wasn't somethin' I thought would ever happen. Wakin' up in the mornin' with you in my arms… means more to me than I can tell ya, Ash. Never want it to end."

Aisling smiled at him, and stretched up to gently kiss his soft lips.

"That night in Atlanta… when you asked if I wanted a drink, and your mouth was so close to my ear? I felt such a pull to you… I wanted to kiss you so badly. I thought about it – like, _really_ thought about it - but I was worried that I would scare you off."

She kissed her way along his jaw, up to his ear, and whispered "what would you have done if I had kissed you that night, Daryl?"

Daryl shrugged "wouldn't have stopped ya, that's for sure. Woulda thought you were just wantin' to get off though… wouldn't have thought it meant nothin' to ya."

Her lips tugged at his earlobe, "What about that night at Sean's, on the 4th of July? I wanted to kiss you so much, when you had your arm around me, holding me, and I thought you maybe wanted to kiss me too, but nothing happened. Didn't you feel the same way?"

His hands slid up her body to rest on her face, as his gaze held hers as he smirked "That was the night I decided that fuck it, I was gonna go for it an' kiss ya'. Then Corinne took ya home, an' it didn't happen. Thought maybe it weren't meant to be."

"I was so frustrated when she did that," Aisling giggled "I was sitting in Corinne's car, but all I wanted was to be in your truck, with you kissing me."

Daryl's eyes widened as he lay back against the hotel pillows, staring down at the beautiful naked brunette who was placing soft kisses along his shoulder, across his collar bone, and up his neck.

"Sean told me later that ya wanted me to kiss ya that night, but it didn't seem real likely..."

"Of course I wanted you to kiss me, Daryl."

He buried his face in her neck, nuzzling her close, and mumbled against her skin "Why'd ya want me? I mean, ya got actors an' rock stars an' all, all wantin' ya. Why'd ya settle for me?"

Aisling gasped in disbelief, and pulled her mouth away from where she had been sucking little kisses along the warm, soft, skin of Daryl's neck. She pushed his arms back down her body, and straddled him, feeling his soft penis twitch back to life beneath her ass.

"I didn't _settle_ for you, Daryl," she whispered, pushing her hands through his soft dark hair, smoothing it from his forehead so that she could look into those beautiful blue eyes again. "I don't settle for anything in life, you should know that by now. I _wanted_ you. You were the man that I wanted, because you are kind, and thoughtful, and caring… and gorgeous, and so fucking primal and protective and _so_ fucking sexy."

Daryl tried hard to suppress the smile that threatened to spread across his face, but he couldn't, so Aisling looked down on a rare flash of his teeth as he grinned up at her.

"That's more compliments than I ever got in my life, sweetheart" he said quietly as he looked up at her, his blue eyes shining.

"You'd better get used to it then, Daryl, because I love you, and I won't ever not tell you that." She paused to press a warm kiss to his lips "And when you asked me to stay, and told me you loved me" she pulled back for a moment, and traced his lips with her fingers "...I felt like I was the luckiest girl on earth."

_This is it. This is when I tell her… when I ask her. Feels right..._

"Ash, I.. eh, I wanna… I mean, do you wanna..." he coughed, clearing his throat "I mean, I ain't got a ri-"

A knock on the door and the call of "Room Service!" jerked him out of whatever he'd been planning to say, and as she called out to whomever it was to come in, and he yelled out for whomever it was to go away, their eyes met and she giggled, before she snuggled down against the warmth of his naked body and pulled the covers over them.

*.*

Daryl was grumpy all the following morning.

He'd almost asked her to marry him, but then some prick had come in with a bottle of champagne because _'they valued her custom_ ' and ' _they wanted to welcome her guest_ ', and he wished they'd been in some $19 night motel where nobody gave a shit who came and went, and he would have been able to spit whatever words came to him out uninterrupted.

But he hadn't, and they weren't, and instead he went to some studio to watch her film her last scene in the movie she was shooting, where she wore a weird orange dress and moaned in the least sexy way possible, pretending that a cockatoo – who would be added in digitally later – was unfastening her clothes with his beak.

Then he trotted along behind her and a load of PR people and assistants like some obedient puppy, and sat quietly away from everyone while she was interviewed and photographed for an Italian fashion magazine on the dock of some fucking swamp.

A woman, dressed in black pants, shirt, and sunglasses, asked Aisling about everything from her childhood to her choice of champagne, while a bunch of men and women fussed over her, applying makeup and teasing her hair into various weird shapes.

They helped her in and out of assorted, skimpy outfits – none of them covering as much of her body as Daryl would have liked – and waited patiently as she posed for the photographer and his assistants, who maneuvered her into different poses on the dock.

"You met with Caspar Millet in London, yes?" the interviewer asked as Aisling settled into a folding chair on the dock, taking a break from the photographs while the next shot was set up.

Aisling nodded, "I was so excited to meet him. He's one of my favorite authors."

The woman in black cast a glance at Daryl, then asked "Are you going to work on 'The Scavenger' with him?"

Daryl frowned. The woman hadn't cast so much as a glance at him since they'd arrived there, and now she was asking about some author and looking at him. Was this guy a really hot looking author, or something?

Laughing in a way that Daryl now knew was a non-committal, 'let's change the subject' laugh, Aisling said "I met him and a director in London and we talked about it, but it's incredibly early days. I haven't even seen a script yet."

There was something up. He could sense it. Some unspoken conversation going on between the lines, that he wasn't privy to, and was itching to ask Aisling about it.

As she posed for the last photos of the day, looking hot as hell in some man's dress shirt and a pair of panties, the interviewer cleared her throat beside him "Daryl?" she asked, checking the notes in her notebook.

He nodded, unwilling to offer anything more, and fixed the woman with a questioning stare.

She made small talk, asking when he had arrived in New Orleans, how he was liking the city, and Daryl replied as mono-syllabically as possible. As the photographer finished up, realizing that she wasn't going to get much from the grumpy man standing beside her with his arms crossed protectively across his broad chest, the interviewer gathered her belongings. Before she left to say goodbye to Aisling, she turned to him one last time "Have you read The Scavenger"

Daryl's brow crumpled in confusion as he shook his head to let her know he hadn't.

The Italian lady hummed a faint acknowledgment, raised her eyebrows and nodded, then made her way across the dock to hug Aisling and finish up.

_What the hell was that about?_


	38. 38

**Thank you to everyone who followed/favorited, and Thank You for reading!**

 

*.*

 

 

After the photoshoot and interview that had left Daryl feeling a little lost and more than a little troubled, the rest of his and Aisling's weekend in New Orleans had quickly eased into everything he'd hoped it would be.

It was their first weekend away somewhere together, and he'd envisioned lazy mornings spent in bed, and early nights spent likewise, and that was how it turned out.

 

Shaun and Corinne sometimes went away for weekends together from time to time. Shaun said that it recharged their 'couple batteries'. Hell, even the guys at work talked about taking their girls or wives away for a few days alone, but before he'd met Aisling Daryl had never understood the appeal of spending a couple of nights away from home with someone.

 

To be fair, Daryl had never understood the appeal of spending more than ten minutes alone with a woman, so the idea of spending an entire weekend with one had as much appeal as unclogging the toilet in the trailer after Merle had blocked it up.

Spending an entire weekend with a woman away from home would be just like taking the toilet with him to another location and dealing with it there.

 _Same shit, different place_.

 

Things were different now. When Aisling had first floated the idea of him coming to meet her in New Orleans, he had jumped eagerly at the opportunity. She hadn't been sure if he would be that into the idea, but he was excited to spend time with his girl, wherever they were.

Hell, even being in the same room as her still filled his stomach with butterflies, but to spend time away from Goat Rock with her was new, and exciting.

 

Bouts of lovemaking – sometimes slow, drowsy, sometimes frantic and desperate, - started, ended and punctuated their days. Neither of them ever seemed to get enough of having their lover's naked body pressed close to their own. They had sex _a lot_ at home, but the days apart left them feeling as though there was almost a deficit of contact that only lots of naked skin against naked skin could replenish.

Open mouths, hot breath, searching tongues and grasping hands.

They needed to reclaim territory that only they truly knew, like secret gardens behind walls and gates only they had access to explore and enjoy.

The familiar planes of the other's bodies, blushed by gentle moans and sighs, burned with the touch of their lovers lips.

Their bodies twisted, bucked against each others.

Hands grabbed and squeezed flesh, gripping buttocks, hips and breasts.

 

In between tearing each others clothes off, they had also found time to explore the city. Daryl was pleasantly surprised by how much he liked New Orleans. It had a good Southern feel, not too dissimilar to Georgia to feel alien, but different enough to feel new and exciting.

 

He tried his first beignets, which went down a lot better than the oysters Aisling had made him eat. They reminded him of the time he had a real bad cold when he was little, and lay shivering on the tattered couch in their trailer as his Mom drank cheap wine and watched As The World Turns on the little black & white portable television.

Great, big, thick globs of virulent snot had slithered down his throat when he coughed or tried to snort the slime back from slithering down his nose to his lips. His Mom had huffed, staggered unsteadily to the bathroom, and returned, passing him a roll of toilet paper as she told him to be quiet as he gagged on the salty mucus.

He wouldn't be trying oysters again, if he had anything to do with it.

 

 

The couple had also taken to the streets of the French Quarter, and had met her movie colleagues for a drink on Saturday night.

Daryl had taken his beer and joined one of them for a cigarette outside. He was about the same height as Daryl, but was a little younger, with a baby face and longish slicked back blonde hair.

 

The amount of people who had approached them in the short time they stood outside the bar quickly made Daryl uncomfortable. He'd found himself appointed unofficial photo-taker, pointing numerous iPhones at the actor with various fans, and had even been propositioned when two giggling women asked the actor “Would you like to fuck us? Your friend can join in, if you want?”

 

Daryl had spluttered, wiping beer from his chin muttering “ain't fuckin' joinin' you nowhere”, as the actor laughed and politely declined the woman's offer, explaining that he was going to call it a night soon because he had to go back to his hotel to pack for an early flight.

 

It was only later, when he'd returned to Goat Rock and told Shaun, Chuck and Corinne about the weekend that he had learned the man was a multiple Academy Award nominated actor, and was – as Corinne put it - “a big deal. A huge deal, in fact… a gorgeous, playboy multi-millionaire deal.”

Shaun had frowned at her when she had said that, but she had just nudged him with her elbow and added “… who doesn't even come close to my man, right here.”

 

As far as Daryl was concerned he was just 'Leo', the nice guy who had told him how Aisling had made him laugh a lot. The actor had grabbed his shoulder as he said he was a lucky guy to have such an 'awesome woman' who obviously loved him so much, and confided that he was a little jealous of the way Aisling had spoken about him.

 

“I get a lot of that 'fuck me' shit from girls,” he admitted, taking a swig of his own beer, “but I've never had the whole _true love_ thing Ash obviously has for you. More often than not I'm a meal ticket or a chance to boast to their friends.”

The conversation had already strayed further into the realms of 'talking about feelings' than Daryl was comfortable with, so he just shrugged and grunted, and picked at the rim of his plastic beer cup.

 

“Yeah, well,” the actor had continued, “I hope you know how lucky you are, man. You can screw a thousand girls, but that one that you love, and who loves just as much… that's what makes the whole fucking world go round.”

 

When he'd gone back into the bar with Leo, and Ash had looked up almost immediately from where she was sitting… it looked like she had sensed that he was back in the room. She wiggled her fingers at him in a greeting, and smiled, before she shifted across in her seat to allow him room to sit beside her.

He nudged his way past the people sitting with her and took his place at her side. She didn't break from the conversation they were all having about some kind of union unrest, but she did snake her fingers around his under the table and squeezed his hand in hers as she gently laid her head on his broad shoulder. Actions like that still made his belly flutter, like it did the first time she ever touched him.

 

 _He got that right. Damn girl makes my whole world go round_.

 

 

*.*

 

Any attempts to casually find out about the book by the French guy that had him so worried were unsuccessful. Unable to shake the notion that there was something about that book, or it's screen adaptation, that he needed to know about, he had tried bringing it up with Aisling. She had just gushed about how it was such a wonderful piece of writing, but added that she didn't think it was really his 'cup of tea', so he probably wouldn't like it much.

 

Ever since he had monumentally fucked up in the aftermath of the rape scene in Wild Geese, Daryl was unwilling to talk in any depth about Aisling's work to her unless she mentioned it first.

He'd wanted to. Wanted to ask how her day went, ask about what work she had coming up, find out what she was excited about doing… but he didn't, because Daryl couldn't trust himself not to say the wrong thing, or accidentally make her feel bad when she told him.

He also didn't press on with his questions because he was afraid that he'd find out something that he really didn't want to know. God knows, his mind had conjured up dozens of horrible scenarios which he thought might lay in store for him.

It also didn't help that he kept thinking about that night when Sarah had gone into excruciating detail about nude scenes and the various things that could happen during their filming.

 

If he could have mustered up a sensible, well thought out and concise question without getting tongue-tied or angry, spitting out words he didn't mean, he would have asked it.

He couldn't, so he just stayed quiet and brooded about it internally. Aisling hadn't mentioned it, so he had no opportunity to bring it up.

 

After a while, Daryl tucked it to the back of his mind and tried his hardest to forget about it.

 

 

*.*

 

When they returned to Goat Rock again, life progressed as normal. The sun rose and fell, Daryl went to work in Shaun's shop, and Aisling watched Fall slowly morph into Winter as she ventured out into the woods to take photographs or just to stretch her legs.

Sometimes she sat on the deck – usually wrapped in one of Daryl's shirts – smoking a cigarette, reading scripts she had been sent for consideration.

He would join her from time to time, taking the opportunity to fiddle with his crossbow. She assumed he was cleaning it – or whatever it was that he did to it, to keep it in working order – and was happy just to have him by her.

He never asked about what she was reading. She took his silence to mean that he wasn't that interested. Just as how she didn't quiz him about every engine he looked at, she assumed that he was equally as disinterested in every script she read.

 

Life for the couple was as happy and blissful as either one of them had ever dared it could be, until one dark, rainy day in mid- October.

 

*.*

 

Daryl tripped over the large pile of paper on the living room floor, and cursed quietly as he righted himself, holding onto the wall with one hand as his other grappled with the stack of paper.

 

_Damn girl's even messier than my pig of a brother. Needs a fuckin' maid or somethin', followin' her round 24/7._

 

As he carried the stack of papers into the little room she used as a study his eye was caught by something he'd come to recognize as a script.

 

_**'The Scavenger'** _

_**Screenplay by Mikkel Vestergaard/Elliot Valembois.** _

_**Based on the novel by Caspar Millet.** _

_**Directed by Mikkel Vestergaard.** _

 

 

 

Daryl's heart pounded in his chest as he pulled the script from the rest of the pile and flipped through the xeroxed pages. Only one female character's name was present – Olivia – and the rest were all men. Lots of men. _Tom… Lance… Alexandre… Johan… Nick… Mathias…_

 

Words began to leap out of the pages at him.

 

_'Olivia gags on Lance's erect penis'._

 

The words hit him like a punch in the gut. He almost dropped the pages, but forced himself to read on. It was like picking a scab. He couldn't stop.

 

It was like reading the direction for a porno. All fingering, fucking, and sucking.

 

' _Johan_ _pulls_ _Olivia's_ _skirt up and pulls down_ _her_ _panties. He roughly inserts a finger between her exposed labia'._

 

Bile rose in Daryl's throat, and he briefly closed the pages to allow himself a moment to breathe before he continued reading.

 

When he couldn't stand to read any more he dropped the hand that was clutching the pages down to his side and stood there for a moment as he tried to process what he had just read. Rage, hurt and fear simultaneously surged through his body, as his stomach churned and rolled.

 

_Naw, this can't be right… ain't somethin' she'd do. She wouldn't do this to me, my girl. She tells me she loves me all the damn time, an' she knows I love her like nothin' else on this earth._

_Hell… Ash wouldn't do this, would she?_

 

Daryl began to pace the room, trying hard to be rational and intelligent about Aisling, and their relationship.

 

The script's presence in their house was one of the first conundrums he tossed around in his head. It had just been laying there, on the floor, waiting for him to trip over it. She obviously wasn't trying to hide it from him, and that led him naturally to the thought that perhaps she hadn't hidden it because, to Aisling, it was nothing. Just another acting job.

 

_Girl thinks nothin' of gettin' naked in front of people, goin' on tv with everything on fuckin' show for all the world to see._

_She don't see nothin' wrong with kissin' on other men when she's actin, cause it don't mean nothin' to her. Say's it's just a character, an' it ain't her._

_But this is different ain't it?_

_This is real fuckin' different._

 

Would she take a role like that, requiring actual sexual contact with another man… hell, with other _men?_

 

His mind flashed back to a conversation she'd had with Sarah one afternoon in the drive at her old house, when he'd been busy under the hood of her car, tinkering away so he didn't have to talk to the annoying redhead.

 

With his head under the hood he had half-listened to the two women as they talked about a movie at some film festival, in which the lead actors had quite graphic un-simulated sex.

Sarah had seemed slightly squeamish about the movie, saying that she knew the male actor's ex-girlfriend and she hadn't been happy about it at all. They had broken up halfway through filming because no matter how hard she tried to get into his head-space and support his career, she couldn't get beyond the fact that he was leaving her every day to go and fuck someone else.

Aisling had been more prosaic about the whole affair, and simply said that some relationships would be able to deal with it, and some wouldn't. She'd added that if they broke up over a job, they would have broken up at some point anyway.

 

At the time, Daryl had assumed that Aisling meant that if the actor guy was willing to do that in a movie, he'd have screwed around anyway. Now, he wasn't so sure if that's what she had meant at all.

 

As the hours passed and Daryl waited for Aisling to return home, his thoughts began to spiral out of control. His mind led him on wild, convoluted journeys from one thought process to another, all the time lurching further towards more hurtful and grotesque conclusions, and by the time he heard her car pull up in the drive he had decided exactly what was going on, and he was furious.

 

 

*.*

 

It was getting dark when Aisling returned from the framers in Decatur. She had taken her prints for the exhibition there, and had arranged for the framed photos to be shipped directly to Sam in New York, ready to be hung in the gallery.

 

Excited to talk to Daryl about all she had organized, and to find out how his day went, she threw her bag down onto the hallway floor and went into the sitting room.

She knew he was there, because his truck was in the drive and the lights were on, but the house was strangely quiet.

 

Usually, Daryl's presence at home was evident by loud metal blaring from a speaker somewhere in the house or garage, or the sound of his bumping around in the mudroom, cleaning a kill.

 

Today, she saw the back of his head as he sat on the couch, in the dark.

 

“Why haven't you got any lights on?” she wondered aloud as she flipped the switch on the lamp by the door, and went over to wrap her arms around his neck. His body was stiff as a board, unresponsive, and he was breathing heavily through his nose.

 

“What's going on, Daryl?” she asked, rounding the couch to face him “Why aren't you talking?”

 

He stood up, pushing the hand that she'd extended to touch his face away, and stood stiffly some feet away from her.

 

“You got somethin' to tell me, huh?” he hissed, his face hard.

 

Aisling was confused.

“What? I have no idea what you're-”

 

He raised the script he clutched in his hands and tossed it at her, hitting her shoulder with it. She caught it and looked at the pages, then back up at his blue eyes, flashing with anger.

“What are you so angry about, Daryl?”

 

“You think cause it's 'actin' I ain't gonna mind? That it ain't worth mentionin'? Were you gonna wait til I was sat in a movie theater watching my girl suckin' someone else's dick?” Daryl yelled at her.

 

Aisling needed to explain.

“Daryl, no, please, you won't have to-”

 

He cut her off with a wave of his hand “Oh, I won't have to watch it? I can just ignore it, can I, huh? That's real nice of you Ash, not expectin' me to go see another man lickin' you out, stickin' his finger in your pussy. Ain't you a real fuckin' peach.”

 

Again, she tried to make herself understood.

“Daryl, I-”

 

In two long strides he was in her face, his face contorted with anger and disgust.

He cut off her attempt at an explanation again and yelled “Y'know what, fuck you Aisling! Go an' screw whoever ya want. Ain't you, after all, is it? It's the character, I get it!”

 

His forehead was almost touching hers as he advanced on her, backing her up against the wall as he hissed his words out.

“Hell, maybe I oughta go right out, pick up some chick an' tell her my name's fuckin' Randy or somethin'. Tell her I'm a fuckin' brain surgeon an' screw her inta the middle of next week. S'only 'actin', aint it? Don't mean nothin'!”

 

And then, like that, he was gone, into the evening in a fury, all clenched fists and swinging arms.

 

Aisling called after him, her voice weak, hindered with shock and the sobs threatening to choke her.

He didn't come back.

 

*.*

 

It was daylight when Aisling opened her eyes on the couch in the living room, and the house was cold. She shivered, pulling the coat she still had on from the evening before around her tighter, and looked around the room. It was still as she had left it, the script Daryl had thrown at her still lay on the floor.

Sighing, she unfolded her arms and legs, her joints complaining as they resisted the pull back into their normal positions. It must have been around five or six in the morning when she had eventually fallen asleep, when the exhaustion of crying, and worry, and so much fucking regret had presumably made her body shut down for a short while.

 

She cried again as she showered, the intensity of Daryl's fury coming back to her as the warm water ran over her skin.

She'd never seen him so angry.

 

 

The sensible thing would have been to talk to Daryl about the script as soon as it had arrived, and been completely open with him, but the 'sensible thing' was something which often escaped Aisling when it came to available courses of action. She tended to get caught up in the moment, and wasn't always able to see ahead to possible complications.

It was something she inherited from her mother, she guessed. This selfish involvement in her own life and decisions, that didn't feature anyone else until the impact on them became apparent.

 

If she had spoken to him about the movie, rather than… not _hiding_ it exactly, so much as not bringing it up, then he wouldn't have been in a position to find it when he was alone, when she wasn't there explain her decision about the role, and why she had made it.

 

Aisling turned off the shower, dried her eyes, and took a deep breath before she stepped out from the warmth of the shower into the relative chill of their bathroom.

As she reached out and wiped the steam from the mirror, she looked at her red eyes and reached a decision.

It was going to take more strength than she was sure she had in her, but it was for the best.

Honestly, she knew in her heart that there was no other option she could possibly take.


	39. Chapter 39

Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter. 

Also, thank you to everyone who followed/favorited.

 

I was surprised how so many people (here and on fanfiction) thought that maybe Aisling was more involved in the direction/production side of things in The Scavenger… you'll just have to read on to see if your suspicions were correct.

 

As ever, Merle and Daryl aren't mine, and everything else is fictional.

Thank you for reading x

 

*.*

 

 

 

Daryl drove his truck with no idea of where he was going.

No destination.

No route.

The idea that he might just keep driving, round, and around, and around the planet, until either he or the car just gave up and died briefly crossed his mind.

 

He had no more intention of screwing anyone than he had of flying to the moon.

The words he'd yelled at her were spat out with the sole intention of hurting Aisling, and from the way her big green eyes had widened at the words he knew that he had succeeded.

Mission accomplished.

For a while he had taken a cruel satisfaction in the tears that he'd seen spring to her eyes before he'd left, the pain he felt fueling the anger in him to battle for dominance among all the other _damn feelin's_ that were slowly making every part of him hurt.

 

_Good. Stupid bitch's feelin' just a lil' bit of what I'm goin' through._

 

Lashing out at the woman who had made him feel like his heart was being ripped out of his chest was the most logical way to deal with his pain.

Anger was an easier emotion for Daryl than hurt had ever been, and in a way it comforted him because it wasn't as hard as the ache of rejection, betrayal, and the shame he felt at leaving himself vulnerable to it all, like a sitting duck.

 

He knew anger.

Anger was the faithful friend who had always been there for him, helping defend him against hurt.

 

Eventually though, anger wasn't strong enough.

As thought's of Aisling and the pleasure their relatively short time together had given him were too strong for him to fight away, the sharp edges of his anger were blunted by the weight of despair that settled deep and heavy inside him.

Daryl pulled the truck to the side of the road.

He rested his arms on the tatty steering wheel, and laid his head down on them as he bit at his lips and willed the tears welling up in his eyes to stay where they were.

 

_Fuck. FUCK!_

 

When the tears came anyway he punched the wheel a couple of times in frustration, before he laid his head back down again and cried like he hadn't allowed himself to in decades.

 

*.*

 

It was almost 2AM when Shaun and Corinne were woken by a loud hammering at their front door.

“Who the hell is that?” Shaun groaned, flicking on the bedside lamp as he squinted at the illuminated digits on the clock by his bed.

 

Corinne sat up quickly, afraid, and grabbed her husband's hand, “Be careful, Shaun” she whispered, and followed him nervously out into the hallway as he cautiously opened the front door.

 

“Daryl?”

 

His friend's shoulders were slumped, and his chin rested on his chest as he spoke around the thumb he was chewing at “M'sorry. Know it's late n'all… ain't got nowhere else to go.”

The husband and wife shared an alarmed glance at each other, then Shaun ushered Daryl into the house and through to the couch, where Corinne took his arm and pulled him gently down to sit beside her.

 

They sat in silence for a moment as Daryl stared down at his feet while he continued to bite at the skin on his thumb. “Was runnin' outta gas drivin'. Ain't got no money on me for gas or a motel or nothin',” he mumbled “ain't even got my phone… no clothes. Got nothin'...” His voice trailed off then, leaving the room silent again.

 

“What's happened? Where's Aisling?” Corinne asked softly.

 

Daryl shrugged “At home, I guess. I left her.”

 

Shaun quietly went to gather a bottle of whiskey and some glasses, while Corinne began to gently coax more details from the tired and shellshocked man.

 

Initially, the knot Daryl felt tighten in his throat as he tried to explain the situation to his friends, in as few words as possible, had been just small enough to allow him to speak around. He willed the burning behind his eyes away, back to where it belonged… safe and sound, deep inside.

However, as he knocked back the glass of whiskey Shaun offered him and told his friends about the movie Aisling was going to do, and what it entailed, that lump in his throat grew bigger, and all his reserve and determination dissolved further with every shaky word he struggled to release.

Even as the tears had breached his eyelids he had begged whatever power there was out there to stop his body reacting to the hurt, but it was useless.

 

“Shhhh, it's okay, we'll figure it out,” Corinne had soothed as she looked to Shaun for reassurance that she was doing the right thing.

He nodded.

 

Shaun wasn't used to this kind of stuff.

For all the times he'd wished that his friend had been a little less stoic and silent, and a little more open, he had never wanted this.

He could tell that Daryl was mortified at how his normally concrete-like walls had crumbled around him. Knowing his friend well enough to know not to crowd him, he stayed in the armchair to the side of the couch and silently prayed for strength for the broken-hearted man.

 

Daryl tried to wrestle with whatever emotional might he had left in him, feebly batting Corinne's arm away from his shoulders, but everything he was feeling overtook him.

He allowed her to pull his face in her shoulder, where he sobbed into the collar of her bathrobe.

 

*.*

 

Corinne pulled her car to a halt outside Aisling and Daryl's house early the next morning. She took a moment to gather herself and her thoughts. After a deep breath, she got out of the car and approached the red front door with a confidence that belied the nervousness bubbling inside her stomach.

 

When Aisling opened the door she nodded curtly and asked “May I come in? I won't be long, but I would rather not say what I have to stay on your doorstep.”

 

Her friend nodded, her face drawn and tired, and held the door open for her to enter. Corinne stepped into the hallway and followed Aisling into the chilly living room, where she stood rigidly by the long-cold fireplace and faced the woman she'd come to consider a friend, that she had invited into her home and into her family's life.

 

“I just wanted to...” she paused and coughed, clearing her throat as she plucked up the courage to say what she had been rehearsing in the car on the way over “… I just wanted to say that I never thought that you would be so cruel, and so heartless. Are you so invested in your goddamned _art_ that you didn't give a second thought to the man who loves you, who actually sat and cried on my couch last night?”

 

A part of Aisling felt gutted at thinking that Daryl might follow through on his threat, and go to the bar to find a girl, but the more rational part of her knew that he wouldn't.

To find out that had gone to his friends and cried instead made her heart ache for him, despite the anger that she was feeling for him right now.

 

Aisling opened her mouth to speak, but Corinne had her little speech all prepared, and steamrolled on ahead, regardless of what she had to say.

 

“Did you really, seriously, expect Daryl to be fine with you making _that_ movie or did you just think “to hell with him” and decide to do it anyway? And when on earth were you going to tell him about it? Was it supposed to be some big surprise for him when he sat down to watch it?”

 

Aisling had been ready to explain everything to Corinne when she had first arrived at her door, but after the little speech that had just been delivered at her she bristled, even angrier at the assumptions that Daryl had jumped to, and Corinne had just blindly believed.

Did _everyone_ have such a low opinion of her?

 

_Maybe I should have just done the fucking film? It's not like anyone has very high expectations of me as it is._

 

Aisling looked at her expectantly, her eyebrows raised in a question.

“Have you finished?”

 

Corinne nodded, and folded her arms across her chest when she couldn't decide what else to do with them. She had never been one for confrontation, but having comforted a tired, and broken, Daryl last night she was angry.

 

Angry at Aisling for signing up for this film, which sounded like nothing more than pornography in her opinion, and angry at herself for not being more protective of the reserved redneck that she and her husband considered family.

Angry because she had considered what she had with Aisling to be a friendship, which now lay in tatters.

 

“No, I didn't expect Daryl to be _fine_ with me making that film,” Aisling said, her voice quiet and calm, jolting Corinne back into the here and now.

“I turned down the role the minute I read the script and realized what it involved.”

 

She let her words sink in with Corinne a little before she continued, “Funnily enough, I wasn't fine about it either, so I didn't consider it, even for a minute. I wouldn't do something like that to Daryl… although that that probably comes as a surprise to you, what with me being so 'cruel and heartless'.”

 

Aisling walked to the door, opened it, and looked at Corinne expectantly. “… so, if you don't mind seeing yourself out Corinne, I have stuff to do.”

 

The older woman stood there for a moment, in the middle of the room, her mouth opening and shutting uselessly, not knowing what to say.

 

Aisling hadn't taken the role?

She had turned it down?

Oh God, she had made a huge mistake.

And Daryl _…_ _huge_ mistake didn't even come close to covering it.

 

“Aisling, I'm sorry, Daryl said-”

 

“Goodbye, Corinne,” Aisling said, gesturing to the open door.

 

“But… no, no… I'm so sorry… I'll talk to him! I'll expl-”

 

The rawness of Aisling's anger and feelings of betrayal were still too raw to listen to whatever Corinne had to say. She motioned to the open door again “I think you've said quite enough, Corinne. Bye bye.”

 

Slowly, Corinne made her way to the door. As she stepped outside she turned to try again, to apologize again to the woman who stood the other side of the doorway with tears brimming in her big green eyes, but as she opened her mouth to try to explain the door closed quietly, but firmly, in her face.

 

*.*

 

Daryl lay on Corinne and Shaun's couch while Paige and Stevie watched some old Tom and Jerry cartoons on the television. He was paying enough attention to be sure that they hadn't switched over to some porno or something, but his mind wasn't allowing him to process much more than that.

He hadn't slept a wink last night, and was tired and numb from the hours spent alternately crying and wallowing in his own miserable thoughts.

 

Corinne had left him to watch the kids early that morning, saying she needed to quickly pop out to the store, while Shaun was called out to pick up a breakdown outside town.

Daryl wasn't doing the best job of it ever – turning a blind eye when Paige appeared from the kitchen with a bag of Kit Kat Minis she had found in a drawer where Corinne had hidden them – but he was stopping them from setting themselves on fire, having knife fights, throwing themselves out the window, or whatever crazy ass shit it was that kids got up to.

 

_Who the hell was I tryin' to kid, thinkin' me an' Ash could get married, have kids? Ain't any better at this shit than my own damn folks were._

 

He rubbed his hands over his face and breathed out deeply.

 

“Uncle Daryl! Look! Kit Kats up my nose! KIT KATS UP MY NOSE!!” Stevie shouted excitedly from his position astride the arm of the couch.

 

“Shhh!” Paige whispered, “We ain't supposed to bother Uncle Dawill, Stevie. He's too sad today.”

 

Daryl reluctantly pulled his body up to a sitting position, and reached out to grab Stevie from the arm of the couch. After fishing around in the boy's nose for a moment, he was able to remove the slimy chocolates from each nostril and tossed them into the fireplace.

 

“Don't go shovin' any more shit – fuck, if your folks ask, I didn't say that - don't go shovin' any more stuff up your nose, Stevie, 'kay?”

 

Stevie nodded and, sensing his uncle's mood, flopped down on the couch beside him.

 

“Why are you sad?”

 

Daryl looked down at the little boy who was sitting beside him, looking up at him with big brown eyes.

 

Paige sat down beside them, and reached out to stroke her uncle's hand as she stuck out her lower lip and looked at him with the same facial expression that she might have used on seeing an injured kitten.

 

“Yeah, why are you so sad today, Uncle Dawill?”

 

_Fuck._

_Thought I was gonna marry a girl, then I found out she was gonna get fingered an' suck some other guy's cock in a movie?”_

_Ain't no way to explain this to kids._

 

He coughed, then took a breath, ready to try to explain how Auntie Aisling wasn't going to be around no more, when Corinne opened the front door and ran breathlessly into the house.

 

*.*

 

Heather's phone rang out three times before Merle answered.

 

“Why the hell ain't you pickin' up?” Daryl exclaimed, relieved that someone had finally answered, and pissed as hell that it had taken them so long.

 

“'Caller I.D., baby brother,” Merle chuckled, “you ain't exactly Heather's favorite person in the world right now.”

Daryl groaned. Of course Aisling had told Heather how he was the dumbest, most worthless piece of shit on humanity's shoe.

 

As soon as Corinne had explained everything to him he had sped round to their house in his truck, but she wasn't there.

No note, nothing.

He wasn't sure what he expected when he got there, but he hadn't expected to find her gone so soon. Before he'd even thought to check her closet, he'd grabbed his phone to call Heather to find out where his girl had gone.

 

“Where is she? Where's Aisling?” he asked Merle, his voice getting higher the more frantic he got.

 

He heard Merle sigh on the other end of the line, and listened to his muffled voice as he put his hand over the receiver. “Boy's beside himself, Heather. Can't we just tell him where she is? Stop him havin' a damn stroke?”

 

There was silence for a moment, then Heather came on the line.

 

“Yes?” Her normally friendly voice was cold and detached.

 

“It's Daryl,” he explained, in the vain hope that she might suddenly realize that it was _him_ and she didn't need to keep anything from _him,_ not where Aisling was involved _._

 

“Yes?” Heather repeated.

 

“Where's Aisling? She ain't here. You know where she's at?”

 

Daryl's voice was even higher now, as he got more and more distressed at the situation, with Heather's reluctance to tell him anything. He had fucked up, he knew that, but he needed to know where she was so that he could try – however fruitless that might turn out to be – to make things right.

 

Heather was quiet for a moment, before she let out a deep breath on the other end of the phone. “You really fucked up, you know that?” she asked, “You accused her of some awful shit, Daryl. You didn't even let her explain.”

 

He tried to stop the sob that escaped him as he struggled to get the words out to explain himself to Heather, but it came bubbling out regardless.

He was all snot, and tears, and he tried uselessly to wipe them away with his hand as he pleaded and spluttered down the telephone,

“Please, Heather, where is she? I need to find her… need to talk… need to tell her I'm so fuckin' sorry...”

 

There was no response from Heather, but between his own gasps as he tried to get his emotions under control, Daryl could hear her deep sigh of displeasure.

 

“Please, Heather… she gone? She left me?”

 

Merle's voice came from the background, muttering something about how 'it ain't right'. Daryl figured he had taken the phone away from Heather, and his big brother's voice came back on the line.

 

“Ya still there, lil' brother?”

Merle had heard Daryl pleading on the phone from his place at Heather's side, and his heart went out to his baby brother.

 

He'd heard him beg like that when they were younger, only then it was because their Daddy was advancing on them, pulling his belt from the loops on his pants, or their Mom was passed out on the floor and little Daryl had been trying to wake her up, thinking she was dead.

Back then he'd been pretty fucking useless at protecting him from all the shit that a kid shouldn't have to deal with, but he could at least try to alleviate some of the misery his little brother was in right now.

 

Daryl nodded, then said a simple “yeah” when he realized that Merle couldn't see him.

“Gotta talk to her, Merle.”

 

His brother huffed noisily down the phone, and in the background Daryl could hear Heather shout out “Fine! Tell him! But be sure you tell him I still think he's a fuckin' asshole.”

 

Another noisy sob escaped Daryl, and he became aware of Shaun behind him, reaching out to grip his shoulder. He'd come to the house with him, in case things became him and Aisling became too heated and he could take his friend back to his house again. Watching Daryl fall apart again on the phone, pleading to know where his girl was, was too much.

He couldn't just stand by and not offer any comfort to his friend, no matter how uncomfortable he felt.

 

“Just fuckin' tell me Merle! Where has she gone? Has she left me?” he spluttered out, wiping a hand roughly across his eyes, trying to toughen himself up for the news.

 

Merle snorted on the other end of the phone “Jesus Christ, Darlina, stop behavin' like a damn twelve year old girl on her first period an' I'll tell ya! Quit yer blubberin'! She ain't gone nowhere. Just into Sharpsburg to see a movie an' do some shit at the post office… be' back home tonight. She ain't goin' nowhere yet… but ya gotta know kid, I reckon she ain't too far off it, so pull your head outta your damn ass an' do what ya can to turn this shit around. Ya got me?”

 

It felt as if Daryl had been holding the breath in his lungs for hours, and when he allowed it to escape in relief he dropped the phone into his lap as he lay back against the couch and tried to remember how to breathe again.

 

She hadn't left. Yet.

He still had a chance.

 

He was vaguely aware of Shaun taking the phone and talking briefly to Merle, and half-felt his friend's comforting hand on his arm.

Part of Daryl wanted to turn to Shaun and hug the shit out of him, so relieved that Aisling hadn't left him… yet. The other part of him was horrified that all this emotional diarrhea had escaped in front of someone.

So, he stood up, wiped his eyes, and cleared his throat.

“Don't need nobody starin' at me” he snapped at Shaun, pulling his arm away from his friend's grasp.

 

Shaun nodded, fully aware after all these years of how his friend operated. When an emotion came along that was too difficult to acknowledge or accept, anger was the go-to one that won out.

He didn't feel snubbed or hurt when Daryl stalked off into the kitchen and clattered about, picking up cups and plates Aisling had left laying around from the day before.

Instead he felt relieved, because when Daryl was in control enough to allow the anger to win out, it meant that he was coping in his own dysfunctional way.

Daryl was embarrassed at his many displays of emotion this past twelve or so hours, and wanted to erase them – even a little - with this display of anger.

 

Watching his friend cry into his wife's shoulder last night had been something Shaun had never witnessed before, would never forget, and made his heart hurt for him.

 

“Daryl?” his voice was quiet and cautious.

 

“What?” Daryl grunted from inside the cupboard where he was angrily stacking mugs. He figured he could at least use the time before Aisling came home to get the place cleaned up. He needed to do something useful, even if it was just tidying up.

 

Shaun sat down at the kitchen table where he had made his celebratory toast to the couple only weeks previously, and scrubbed his hand across his face as he thought carefully about what to say to the angry hunter.

 

“Is this really what you want, Daryl? All this fightin', an' yellin', an' cryin'? Cause if it is, I'm behind ya the whole way, brother. But if it ain't… well, there ain't nothin' wrong with callin' it quits an' walkin' away, no matter how hard it seems.”

 

Daryl closed the cupboard door at his head and turned to look at his friend, who looked at him nervously from the kitchen table.

 

Knowing he could go about this two ways, Daryl opted for the quieter one, the one which didn't involve him _getting all shouty with his fists,_ as Aisling had sometimes put it, and sat down beside Shaun. He took a moment or two to think about what he wanted to say, then took a deep breath and began to speak.

 

“With her's the only place I wanna be.”

He turned to look at Shaun, and paused a moment, “Late at night, you ever look at Corinne, an' think 'Fuck me, this must be what heaven's like. Everything's so damn perfect, an' your heart fuckin' hurts from all the shit floatin' round in it?”

 

Shaun knew that feeling well. He nodded, and waited for Daryl to continue.

 

“She makes me feel like I'm worth somethin', like I ain't broken.”

 

Clearing his throat, quietly, Shaun plucked up the courage to say what had been bugging him all day.

 

“You are worth something, brother. Me, Chuck… Corinne, the kids, the boys in the shop… all of us know your worth. You ain't gotta pursue a relationship that makes you unhappy, just to feel worthwhile.”

 

Daryl shook his head and stared at the table as he spoke, “Only time I feel unhappy is when I fuck things up an' act like an asshole. I did it yesterday, accusin' her of shit that was wrong, an' I've done it too many fuckin' times in the past. It's her ya oughta be havin' this conversation with, if I can somehow get her to stay with me.”

He bit at his lips for a moment, then said quietly “She's who I'm meant to be with. Can't do without her. She's like… like fuckin' air or somethin'.”

 

*.*

 

The heavy rain that pelted her car on the way to Sharpsburg had forced Aisling to drive a lot slower than usual, so when she arrived at the post office on the outskirts of Peachtree she was behind schedule if she wanted to get to the particular movie showing she had been aiming for.

 

Pushing the doors open she groaned when she saw the line, headed up by an elderly lady with a bundle of parcels and letters that looked like they would take all day to process.

She stuffed the smaller prints she had made up for the exhibition into a stiff envelope she picked up from the stand near the door as she waited in line, and scrawled Sam's name and address on it as best she could while she balanced it on her left arm.

 

As she stood in the line, watching the people before her, her mind drifted for the first time in almost fifteen minutes to Daryl.

It would have been easier not to think about him, to block him out with mundanities, because to think about him was too painful right now. No matter how hard she tried though, he crept into her thoughts.

His beautiful, angular, scruffy face.

His sharp, intense blue eyes.

His strong, warm body.

His unpredictability.

His distrust.

His betrayal.

 

The man she loved, trusted, and had moved across continents to be with thought that she was capable of casually being a callous bitch, and that hurt, _so_ much.

He believed that she was willing to engage in sexual acts with other men, and be so fucking _blasé_ about it that she couldn't be arsed telling him about it.

Daryl had been willing to believe the worst of her, rather than ask her to explain, and that's what still led to her blood boiling when she thought about him.

 

At this stage he would likely have heard the correct story from Corinne and was now, no doubt, tearing Georgia up looking for her.

 

She still loved him. She still wanted him… but she wasn't sure she _liked_ him very much any more, and that was why she was still determined to stick to the decision she had made last night.

When they were both calm enough to speak to each other, she would explain to him that she couldn't carry on with their relationship.

 

It would quite possibly kill her, and the thought of not being with Daryl any more made her feel physically sick, but she couldn't go through this again.

It was too much.

It was exhausting.

She needed to look past now, to the future.

It was for the best.

 

The teller in the booth nearest her was free, so she walked up to the position, laid the envelope on the counter and waited for the teller to figure out the postage.

Instead of tapping at the little device in front of her, the young teller just stared over Aisling's shoulder.

 

_God, I'm in a fucking hurry! What is up with this woman?_

 

A hand roughly grabbed Aisling's hair from the top of her head, pulling tight, as the cold metal of a pistol was pushed into her skin, just above her right ear.

A man's voice beside her, loud and agitated, yelled out “Everything! Now! NOW!”

 

All the blood in Aisling's body turned to ice and her heart pounded in her ears as she debated turning to see who it was that had her hair in their fist, pulling her head close to the weapon.

Part of her wondered if this was some elaborate prank, for some television show where people were tested on their endurance during moments of stress. If it was, she was going to sue the fuck out of everyone involved.

Even as she thought it, she knew it wasn't.

 

The hand on her hair pulled tighter, and the gun was pressed harder into her head as the voice quickly became more insistant.

“Ya got three seconds before I blow her fuckin' brains all over the place! One… two...”

 


	40. Chapter 40

 

**I hope y'all aren't too annoyed at me leaving you on a _dun-dun-duuuuuun_ cliffhanger like that.**

**This is a short one, purely because I'm writing and posting this on a plane, and while I don't have any nosy people behind me today, I've had to split this chapter in two because it would take me too long to get around to writing it all in one go. Sorry.**

 

**A huuuuge thank you to everyone who followed/reviewed.**

**As always, I don't own Daryl or Merle, and I made everything else up.**

 

**Thank you for reading!**

 

*.*

 

Daryl had finished changing the sheets on his and Aisling's bed and was just stuffing the used ones into the washing machine when the hammering at the door began.

Brimming with nervous energy, he had jumped on every chore imaginable while waiting for Aisling to come home.

It had crossed his mind to go hunting, but he quickly dismissed the idea because he didn't want to miss her if she came home or called, so he had kept his tasks confined to the immediate house area. Anything to keep his mind occupied.

The kitchen was squeaky clean, the yard was swept clear of leaves, he had chopped and stacked firewood in the shed beside the house, and replenished the stock they kept in the big basket by the fire place. All of Aisling's shoes, clothes, books, bags, papers, scripts and discarded jewelery and accessories were tidied away, and now the bedding was fresh. Clearing and reorganizing the refrigerator and writing up a grocery shopping list was next on his 'Things To Do So I Don't Go Mad Waiting For My Girl To Come Home' plan, but as it turned out he didn't get to that.

 

 

Daryl opened the door to Shaun, wondering why he was back less than two hours after he had left, and saw Officer Eugene Ingram pull his patrol car up behind Shaun's own.

 

“What's goin' on?” he asked his friend, trying to think of a reason for Ingram to be here.

 

_Have I been caught speedin'?_

_Has Merle fallen off the wagon? He sounded fine earlier though... What the hell's he done now?_

_Shit, has Merle dropped dead or something?_

 

Shaun took a tentative step inside and held a flat-palmed hand up in front of Daryl as he spoke “Now, don't panic...”

 

As the words left his mouth, and Daryl's eyes widened, Shaun made a mental note to never start a conversation with those words again.

If ever someone was guaranteed to panic, it was on hearing a conversation that started with “Now, don't panic...”.

 

Daryl turned away for a moment, trying to muster the strength not to grab Shaun's shirt in his fist and push him up against the hallway wall. Unfortunately, he couldn't find it in him, and that Dixon rage won out.

 

“Whaddya' mean, 'don't panic'?” he hissed as he abruptly spun around and got up in Shaun's face. At the same time he pinned Shaun's arms against the wall and held him there.

“Why the fuck shouldn't I panic? What the hell's happened? Is it Merle?”

 

The look that flashed across Shaun's face couldn't disguise the feelings of helplessness, guilt, pain and worry that he was feeling, and in that moment Daryl knew that it wasn't Merle who was in trouble, it was Aisling.

He hadn't even considered that something might have happened to _her_ , because he was so focused on the fact that she was coming home.

She was going to finish up what she was doing, come back to the house, and they would talk. Then he would do anything in his power to try to fix things, however useless that might be… but nothing was going to _happen_ to her. Hell, she'd only gone to the cinema and the post office. It wasn't like she'd ridden into fucking battle or something.

 

Officer Ingram sprinted over to the two men, and got between them, panting heavily from the sudden exertion. He might have been one of Goat Rock's best officers, but the years away from Atlanta and the levels of physical fitness required of the job had taken something of a toll on his physique.

 

“Calm down, son” he panted “there was an armed incident at Sharpsburg post office, an' we have reason to believe that your girl might have been involved.”

 

Daryl's eyes darted between the two men, confused.

What would Aisling have to do with an 'armed incident' at a post office, words he knew were palatable news-speak for armed robbery?

She always stuck to the speed limit. Hell, she never even _approached_ the damn speed limit, much to Daryl's annoyance.

His girl had spent hours online looking at local laws to make sure she knew what she could and couldn't do.

For all her wild past, and her bohemian ways, Aisling turned out to be quite a stickler for rules.

Why on earth would they think she was involved in a hold-up?

 

“Ya'll think she held up the post office?”

 

Shaun rolled his eyes.

Christ, but for all his intuitiveness, Daryl could be dumb as shit.

 

He pulled his arm away from Daryl's grasp and rubbed his hand over his face. He took a deep breath, then revealed “We saw her car in the lot on the news. The post office was robbed, an' it looks like she was in there. She weren't robbin' the place, Daryl, she was bein' held there.”

 

It was Corinne who had first spotted Aisling's distinctive orange '75 Mercedes 450sl convertible on the local news footage of the robbery scene.

It was hard to miss, to be honest.

 

Daryl had tried to persuade her to buy any other car on earth other than the garish shitheap she'd found online, but she was inexplicably in love with the car and nothing he said could dissuade her from buying the ugly pile of crap.

 

He'd gone to look at it with her only a few weeks ago, and as she ran her hand over the scruffy leather interior and the patchy looking lurid orange paintjob some color-blind fool had given it recently, he had pointed out the rear window which needed replacing, the patches of rust… well, everywhere… the purely decorative aircon and the fact that the engine needed a total overhaul.

She said she didn't care, and bought it anyway.

Daryl refused to ride in it.

“Don't want people seein' me in that heap o' shit, Ash. Got a professional image to keep up, sweetheart. People see me in this, they're gonna think I don't give a fuck about cars.”

 

He sat in the passenger seat beside Shaun on the short drive to Sharpsburg, and couldn't help but love Aisling's hideously distinctive pile of shit car now.

 

If it hadn't been for the monstrosity Aisling insisted on driving around in, Corinne wouldn't have spotted it in the news coverage from the post office parking lot, wouldn't have told Shaun, and he wouldn't have flagged down Ingram as he spotted him heading home from his shift and told him what was happening.

Ingram hadn't thought twice about following Shaun up to tell his gruff friend that his pretty actress girlfriend was possibly in danger.

 

Eugene spoke to his Sharpsburg colleagues over the radio in his patrol car, and cringed when the news came through that the suspect had been taken down, but not before he'd killed one person and injured two others. The deceased, and the injured, were all women in their twenties.

“Got any more details on the deceased?” he asked as he approached Sharpsburg.

“Haven't got an I.D. on her yet, but she was Caucasian, dark hair, about 5'5” or so. You're with someone who thinks they know someone here, yeah? You think it's her?”

 

_Shit._

Ingram didn't want to be the one to have to tell Daryl that his girl currently lay lifeless on the floor of a post office.

He didn't know Daryl well, but from the interactions he'd had with the man he knew that he loved Aisling, and would do anything he could to protect her. Throughout the time he'd dealt with the couple following the newspaper stories and subsequent press attention, he'd been quietly impressed with the intensity of the protection that the man had shown to his girl.

It had crossed Ingram's mind that, when his daughter was old enough, he'd want someone to look at her with as much devotion as the redneck hunter did to his pretty Irish girl.

 

_How in the hell am I gonna tell him that his girl's dead?_

 

“Sounds like her, alright,” he confirmed. “You found anything on her that might confirm if it's her or not?”

 

There was radio silence for a moment, then a crackle preceded the other officer's voice “Not much… got an envelope addressed to a Sam Turner in New York with some photographs in it, an' a keychain with a rabbit's foot on it. That's it.”

 

 

Ingram glanced in the rear view mirror and saw Daryl staring determinedly ahead in the passenger seat of the car behind him.

He had been silently repeating the same mantra since they had left Goat Rock.

 

_Gonna find my girl, an' she's gonna be just fine._

_She's gonna be just fine._

_She's gotta be just fine._

 

 

*.*

 

 

It was getting dark as they approached the post office in Sharpsburg. Ingram slowed as they passed the cemetery and let loose a quick blast of his siren. A police officer raised the tape at the entrance to allow the patrol car to enter the lot. Shaun followed close behind in his car, allowed through when Ingram spoke to the officer at the cordon.

The car hadn't even stopped before Daryl opened the door and hopped out, stalking towards the entrance of the two story redbrick building.

Police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances crowded the lot behind the police tape strung out around the area, with another ring of tape strung closer around the entrance to the building.

 

“I have to ask you to go back, sir!” a young officer reprimanded Daryl as he'd tried to duck under the tape to enter the building.

“He's with me! Officer Ingram from Goat Rock... we have reason to believe that this gentleman's girl is in there,” he said nodding toward the door as Shaun wrapped an arm around Daryl's chest, stopping him from moving forward again.

“They're evacuating the scene in the next few minutes, so CSI can work. Gotta get the injured out, then the bod-… er, the victim.”

 

The young lawman finished up with a nod which was a mixture of sympathy and duty.

He'd seen the young woman, sprawled out on the cold tile floor with the top half of her head missing.

It was the most gruesome crime scene he'd been called to in his four short months on the force, and had had to force back the bile that had flooded his mouth when he'd first entered the post office.

An officer first on the scene had seen him aim his weapon, and had brought down the suspect with two shots; the first to his shoulder, the second to his head. It was between the two bullets that the robber had fired at the young woman, and the collective contents of their skulls had exploded across the floor, leaving an intermingling mess of blood, brain, and bone that pooled on the tiles, and spattered up the counter.

 

Ingram took a deep breath, then relayed everything he'd heard over the radio to Daryl.

Shaun kept a firm hold on his friend as he took in the information.

Daryl was silent for a moment, then his lungs exhaled a long, keening “No!” as he collapsed to his knees.

 

His girl was gone?

The last words he'd spoken to her were nothing but spite, intended to hurt her.

Did she die thinking that he hated her.

Did she go to her death thinking he thought that little of her.

Did she go out of this life thinking that he thought she was cruel?

Did she suffer?

Had she been afraid?

If he hadn't fucked up she wouldn't have gone there. She shouldn't have been there.

 

As the first evacuees began to make their way from the building, hands on their heads, towards the restaurant next door, the young officer remembered something from the scene and leaned in towards Ingram.

“She had a tattoo on her wrist. Think it was a cross or something, with some dates under it.”

 

Ingram couldn't recall if Aisling had any tattoos, so he leaned down and quietly relayed the information to Shaun, who let out a loud sigh of relief as he cradled his sobbing friend in his arms.

 

“It ain't her, Daryl. She ain't dead!”

 

 

*.*

 

“Good girl!” the man behind Aisling had shouted as the teller reached below her desk and pulled out a cash tray which was due to be taken anyway in five minutes, and at that he released Aisling's hair and shoved her roughly away to his left. As she fell, her head collided with the sharp corner of the counter beside her. Stars danced in front of her eyes as she stretched out her arm instinctively to brace her fall, but she collided roughly with the hard floor regardless.

As she hit the floor she thought of nothing but Daryl.

 _Life's too fucking short_.

 

Aisling tried so hard not to tremble, nor shiver, nor move a fucking muscle as she lay on the cold floor of the post office, trying not to think about the sharp pain shooting from her elbow to her shoulder, or the throbbing in her head.

She felt blood running down her face, but she was alive.

 

She heard the man who had held her at gunpoint bark orders at the teller, and watched his feet as he nervously shifted his weight from one foot to another.

He was wearing brown leather boots, with a dirty sole which had once been white, she guessed. Not entirely unlike Daryl's boots, but Daryl's weren't as beaten up as this man's were, and that was saying something, considering Daryl's boots were old, worn, and molded to the imprint of him – right down to the way his broad feet slipped outwards over the soles of the boots, making them look even broader.

This man's boots looked like they had spent months outdoors, in the wet and cold.

The sole was beginning to peel away from the shoe, leaving gaping holes at the instep where Aisling could see his bare foot. He wasn't wearing socks, and she guessed that this man had lived through some hardship.

 

“I've done what you asked!” the teller protested as the gunman ordered her out from behind the desk. Aisling could see her black business-like pumps as she stood by her head, ready to lay down on the floor.

 

“Get the fuck down! I don't want-”

 

The sounds of the door opening and the shots that followed were deafening.

 

Aisling instinctively turned her head to the side, just in time to see the young teller fall to the floor, the top of her head missing. The long brown hair that remained quickly soaked up a lot of the blood that pooled from her open skull – which looked to Aisling, in that moment, like a broken egg – and mingled with the blood, brain and bone from the man who had been holding a gun to her head just moments before.

 

_Fuck. I'm alive. Thank you God. Thank you!_

 

She turned her head away from the carnage and allowed the darkness that was tunneling her vision to close in, so she wasn't aware of what was happening any more.


	41. Chapter 41

 

“Shhh, sweetie, it's okay. You've hurt your shoulder, so try not to move, okay?”

Aisling found herself looking into the big brown eyes of a woman with a kind smile as she lay on the cold post office floor.

Everything that had happened came flooding back, and she jerked up in an attempt to stand but the pain in her shoulder and head made her reluctantly sink back down, her descent cushioned by the paramedic's grip on her good arm.

 

“We're gonna take you to hospital now, sweetie. My name is Precious, and I'm a paramedic. You've dislocated your shoulder, and you have a concussion.”

 

“That girl… the teller? I saw her when she fell down. The top of her head was gone. It was just… gone...”

 

“I know, honey. But we need you to relax and just look at me while we get you onto a gurney and get you out of here and off to hospital.”

 

“I want to see Daryl.”

 

“Is Daryl your husband, sweetheart? They'll call him at the hospital.”

 

“No… he's my… I don't know the right word. We don't have a word.” Aisling's mind flailed around, looking for the right noun to describe Daryl, but her brain felt muddled. It was as if lots of words had fallen out of her head, and weren't there when she needed them.

Boyfriend seemed so juvenile.

Partner was too business-like.

Lover was too 'Sex And The City'.

 

“He's my Daryl… I need my Daryl.”

 

The paramedic's voice became a little more urgent as she gently took Aisling's chin in her latex-gloved hand “I need you to open your eyes again, sweetheart? Gonna look at me? Tell me, what's your name?”

 

She told the paramedic her name, answered her questions about her address and who the president was, and reluctantly opened her eyes for the woman to shine a small pen torch into them as she examined her pupils.

 

“Okay, Aisling, we'll find Daryl for you, but we gotta get you to hospital honey and you'll be just fine.”

 

*.*

 

 

Shaun followed the ambulance as closely as he could, as the evening began to darken. He drove Daryl along the country roads to Newnan's Piedmont hospital. The journey took little over ten minutes, but felt more like ten hours to the men.

All they knew was that Aisling had shoulder and head injuries.

 

“She could'a been shot in the shoulder, but not the head Daryl. Nobody just survives that shit, do they? She's gonna be fine, brother,” he reasoned with himself as much as the silent man sitting in the passenger seat.

 

“They'll patch her up an' she'll be fine.”

 

Daryl glanced across at his friend and nodded, before he turned to stare out the passenger side window again at the trees lining the road and rasped a throaty “She'd better be.”

 

*.*

 

 

“Daryl Dixon? I'm Dr Mickey Schoenly, and I've been treating Aisling.”

 

The young doctor extended his hand to shake Daryl's as he and Shaun both stood up from the seats in the waiting area. Shaun gently nudged Daryl, stirring him to accept the doctor's hand in a brief handshake as he asked “How is she? How's my girl?”

 

Dr Schoenly sat down with the two men and smiled. “She's fine, relax. Her shoulder was dislocated, but we reduced that back into line just fine. She'll be sore for a bit, but nothing too bad. She also had a grade 3 concussion, which means that she lost consciousness for a little bit. She was a little disoriented, had trouble stringing a sentence together, but other than that everything was okay, and those symptoms have gone now. We'll keep her here overnight just to monitor her, but if everything's still okay in the morning I'm happy to let her go home.”

 

Shaun rubbed his hands across the top of his head, and down over his face as he muttered “Thank fuck” to nobody in particular.

 

Daryl nodded his head briefly, but stayed silent. He couldn't risk speaking right at that moment, because the lump in his throat wasn't going to allow anything other than noisy, relieved sobs out of him.

 

 _She's gonna be okay. If there is a God up there, then thank you. Thank you with every fuckin' bit of my damn body._ _Thank you with every damn breath I ever breathe._

 

“You can go see her, if you want,” Dr Schoenly smiled warmly as he gestured towards the treatment room on his left. “She's been asking for you.”

 

Daryl nodded again, and took a deep breath before he stepped forward to open the door of the treatment room and nervously went inside.

 

Aisling was laid out on the bed, her eyes closed. A nurse was clearing the worktop in the room of various swabs and trays, and turned to look at Daryl. “She's a bit sleepy, but she should be fine to talk to you,” she whispered as she put the items in the various trashcans “I'll give you two a little privacy before we move her up to a room for the night.”

 

She left the room, leaving Daryl and Aisling alone.

Daryl stood by the door for a moment, not sure what to do, before he crossed the distance between them and gently stroked her hand where it lay on the bed.

 

“Ash, hey… it's me,” he whispered.

 

How would she react?

Would she tell him to 'Fuck off'? Would she press the call button by the bed and have him removed?

The last time he'd seen her he had screamed in her face. Told her that he would go fuck someone else. Accused her of doing stuff she had never any intention of doing.

How would she respond to all that?

 

Sure, she'd asked for him, but as the doctor himself had admitted she was disorientated. That didn't mean a thing.

 

Her eyelids flickered open, and those big green eyes looked up into his.

 

“Daryl...” she murmured “You're here.”

 

“Ain't nowhere else I'd be” Daryl responded quietly, playing nervously with her fingers.

 

He felt her fingers entwine around his and squeeze gently, and at that moment he released a deep breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.

 

“You are such an arsehole, you know that?” she smiled, and winked sleepily up at him.

 

The lump that had been lurking in Daryl's throat bubbled out, allowing a quiet sob out with it, as he smiled down at his girl. “Ya got that right, girl,” he nodded, and scrubbed at the tears that slid down his cheeks with his free hand.

 


	42. Chapter 42

_**I'm jetlagged, slightly hungover, and can't sleep, so if this update has more than the usual amount of mistakes, sorry x** _

 

_**Thank you to those who followed/favorited, and a special thanks to the super-fab people who left comments.** _

_**I own neither Daryl nor Merle, and the rest is all make believe.** _

 

_**Thank you for reading x** _

 

 

The next morning, Daryl was jolted awake when the young nurse who came in to check on Aisling accidentally knocked the wheelie stand holding a blood pressure gauge that she was maneuvering around the bed against the chair he'd fallen asleep in.

 

“Oops! Sorry, I just need to check her stats, you can go back to sleep,” she whispered to the man who had insisted on spending the night on the chair in Aisling's room, having pulled it close enough to her bed so that he could rest his arm on the sheets and entwine his fingers with hers as she slept.

 

_A couple of the other nurses covering the night shift had gossiped with her after handover, telling her all about the rough, handsome redneck with the amazing arms in Room 7 who had point-blank refused to leave his girl's bedside, and the aforementioned girl who was apparently a pretty Irish actress from some television show._

“ _It's so romantic!” one of her colleagues had sighed as they peeped through the little window on the door to watch the couple sleep, “Why can't I get a guy like that?”_

 

“S'alright,” Daryl grunted irritably, and rubbed at his sleepy eyes with the palms of his hands “what time's it?”

 

“Just gone six thirty,” she replied as she wrapped the cuff around Aisling's upper arm and pressed the buttons on the machine to make the it inflate “The cafeteria's open, if you want to go get a coffee or something to eat?”

 

Noticing how exhausted Daryl looked, with the bags under his blue eyes casting dark shadows beneath them, and the weary look on his face, she felt even more guilty for waking him.

Those wheelie-stands were a bitch to steer, but she could probably have been a little more careful.

She leaned over Aisling's bed towards him and motioned to the door with her free hand “She's going to be asleep for a while longer, Mr Dixon. Go on, get a coffee. She won't even know you left.”

 

Reluctantly, Daryl nodded and left the room, but not before he leaned down gently push Aisling's long dark hair from her forehead with his fingertips and press his lips to her skin there in a soft kiss.

He wouldn't be any use to her if he kept falling asleep all day, and the idea of a coffee was really appealing after the forty or so hours he'd spent mostly awake.

 

Merle had dropped by last night with Heather, to see how his 'lil' lucky charm' was doing.

Heather had avoided speaking to Daryl, even going so far as to give a small tut and turn away to examine the pamphlets on the wall rack behind her when he thanked her and Merle for coming by. She was still clearly angry with him - that had hurt him slightly, he had to admit to himself - but he'd been quietly relieved to see her roll her eyes, take Aisling's phone, and begin to call her family in Ireland to let them know what had happened.

It was something that needed to be done, but it wasn't something he was looking forward to doing at all, so he had put it off.

How did you make a phone call like that?

 

“ _Hey,_ _that Aisling's daddy?  
You don't know me, but __my name's Daryl an'_ _I'm the worthless redneck who's been_ _screwin' your daughter – you might've_ _read 'bout that_ _in the papers – but, anyway, I accused her of bein' a whore again, so she ran off an' got all busted up in an armed robbery.  
But, __hey,_ _it's real good to finally speak to you,_ _Sir_ _._

_An' by the way, now_ _as_ _we're talkin', how'd ya feel about me marryin' her?”_

 

“She'll come round, baby brother,” Merle had said, nodding at Heather who leaned against the wall across the hallway talking to one of Aisling's brothers on the phone, jolting Daryl from his imaginary conversation with Aisling's father.

“She's damn loyal, Heather. It'll just take a lil' time for her to stop wantin' to rip your balls off for hurtin' her best girl, y'know?”

 

Daryl snorted quietly, and nodded. “Can't say as I blame her. I'd wanna' do the same.”

 

One by one everyone had left for the night.

Merle and Heather had taken the keys Daryl gave them and were going to the post office parking lot to take Aisling's car back to the house before they went home. Shaun had hitched a ride back with them, leaving his car at the hospital, so Daryl could take Aisling back home in it the next day.

They'd offered to come back in the morning to help out however they could, or just be there to offer company and support, but Daryl had told them that they'd be okay.

He would take her home himself.

 

After the sorry display of boyfriending he'd put on so far, and all that she had been through as a result, it was the very fucking least he could do.

*.*

 

Daryl had spent the night by Aisling's bedside, watching her sleep.

He had held her hand, and watched as her chest rose and fell in her hospital bed.

The little row of five neat sutures along the wound in her forehead were close enough to her hairline that any resulting scar wouldn't be that noticeable, but he knew he'd always see it.

 

Every time he looked at her, it would remind him of the how he had let her down, thought the worst of her, and let his anger take over everything he had learned since she had come into his life.

It would be the last time.

He swore to God, if there was one, that if he managed to salvage him and Aisling from the ashes he had created when he had allowed his insecurity and anger to burn around them, it would be the very last time he would allow it to happen.

 

Sure, he would likely lose his temper again.

Hell, Aisling's temper could be as fiery as his on occasion, but it would be the last time he'd let the remnants of his fucked-up childhood sabotage the best thing that had ever happened to him.

 

And if he somehow persuaded this intelligent, talented, messy, pig-headed, beautiful gift of a woman to stick with him, he was going to ask her to marry him, sooner rather than later.

 

*.*

 

 

“Daryl, I can open a door!” Aisling protested, as Daryl clumsily nudged her aside with his hip to open the front door of their house with the free hand he wasn't holding her up with unnecessarily.

“I got it” he grunted, and when it was eventually open – even though it would have been easier, and much less awkward to allow Aisling to open it herself – he steered her into the living room, towards the couch.

He didn't want her to hurt herself, and was going a little overboard in his desire to protect her.

 

 

_Just before they'd left the hospital she had spotted a bathroom near the foyer, and went towards it when she realized that she hadn't been in a while and should probably go pee before they drove home._

 

“ _Daryl, this is the girl's bathroom, you can't come in here” she'd told him as he'd tried to follow her in._

 

“ _Don't give a shit. Gonna help ya'.”_

 

“ _I appreciate your help, but I can pee on my own,” she'd insisted, biting back a smile at how insanely adorable, and annoying, Over-Protective Daryl was._

 

_He'd stood outside the door to the ladies' room with his arms folded firmly across his chest, guarding the bathroom against intruders, ensuring that he could hear any calls for help she might give if she encountered trouble._

 

_While Daryl had, deep down, known that the odds of her either being accosted or running into trouble in the bathroom were slim to negligible, he wasn't going to take any chances… not where his girl was concerned. Not when he'd come so close to losing her less than twelve hours previously._

_He'd only just got her back, and wasn't about to let anything or anyone take her from him again._

 

“Wanna coffee? Or some tea? Think we got some tea here somewhere….” she heard Daryl call from their kitchen as the sounds of him rummaging through cupboards and drawers filtered through to the couch where he had placed her.

“I don't want anything!” she called back to him, “Can we talk?”

 

A few seconds later he appeared, sheepishly, in the kitchen doorway.

 

He had known that she would want to talk, and as much as he would prefer that they just ignored everything that had happened since he'd read that script, and just proceed as though those hours had been erased from history, he knew that it was something that they both needed if they were going to move past the shitstorm he had created.

 

Not only needed it, but deserved it.

She deserved an explanation, and a chance to talk about the horrors she'd seen, and he deserved an ass-kicking.

He also deserved a chance to fight for her.

 

“Here,” she said firmly, patting the couch beside her.

 

Daryl nodded, then made his way towards her, chewing on the skin by his thumbnail. His eyes were focused on the floor, as though the wood grain was the most fascinating fucking thing he had ever seen. He was obviously nervous, but Aisling had a lot that she wanted to talk about, and, as far as she was concerned, now was as good a time as any.

 

He sat down beside her, still worrying his thumb with his teeth, and eyed her nervously. His posture was tense, his body taut with nerves.

 

He had fucked up, and she was about to confront him about it. He didn't know what was worse; that he had fucked up so badly, or that she _knew_ how much he had fucked up.

 

In Daryl's experience, fucking up resulted in a reciprocal fucking up.

He wasn't used to mistakes being easily forgiven, or going unpunished.

Even though he'd messed up with her in the past, and had apologized and was forgiven, part of him was terrified that this would be the time she would wipe her hands of him.

 

Sure, she'd come back home with him to their home, and had smiled and winked at him, but she was also doped up on painkillers and had just been in an armed robbery. What if she was ready now to kick him to the curb for behaving like a prick?

 

“Relax, I'm not going to bite,” Aisling sighed, and rested her pale little hand on his denim-clad knee, sending electric shocks up through his thigh “we just need to talk, Daryl.”

 

Even now, the touch of her hand still made his nerve endings spark like he was on fire.

Ordinarily, he would have yanked her pants down right there and then, and set to work letting her know exactly how he felt about her, but this moment wasn't about sex, or physicality.

This was his chance to repair, or at the very least acknowledge and aplogize for the damage he had caused.

 

Aisling took a deep, calming breath as she thought about what exactly she wanted to say.

There were so many words.

She was worried that if she picked the wrong ones she ran the risk of sending Daryl running off into the Georgia countryside, so she took a moment to be sure of what she thought was important to say, because she really didn't want him to run. Not any more.

 

Yesterday, before she got to the Post Office, she had wanted to scream at him until her lungs exploded. She had wanted to let him know just how much he had hurt her, and how angry and betrayed she felt.

She had made up her mind to leave him, because she was angry and hurt, but the realization that life was short and could end at any moment made her rethink her plan. She loved Daryl, and didn't want to be without him.

 

Today… well, today she just wanted to talk, so that they could put it all behind them.

 

From the moment she'd seen him first in the hospital, to the way he'd spent the night by her bed, she knew he really did care. She knew he loved her, despite everything he had spat out at her when he was angry.

 

“Okay…. honestly, yesterday, when I woke up after you'd left, I was all ready to get on a plane and never come back here. I was hurting so much...”

 

Daryl took a sharp intake of breath, but Aisling plowed on, “...but then, when I had calmed down a little, I wanted to give you a chance to explain the reasoning behind you thinking I would…” she took another deep breath, and tried to keep her voice even,

“...that I would do the things you thought I could do with other men, without even giving me the chance to explain things. You didn't even allow me a chance to speak. You just got all up in my face about what I had supposedly done… or was going to do.”

 

She chanced a glance at him, and saw his blue eyes staring up at her from underneath the dark bangs that fell in his face.

He bit nervously at his lips, then quietly rasped “M'sorry.”

She watched him think for a few seconds before he continued “Been on my mind since New Orleans, 'an when I read that thing I saw red. Put two an' two together an' got… well, got it all wrong. I fucked up real bad, Ash, an' I'm sorry.”

 

His eyes searched her face for a reaction as he covered her hand with his and threaded his large rough fingers through her small, smooth delicate ones, and squeezed.

 

“I love you,” she started, with a small, sad smile on her full lips “and I want nothing more than to be with you, but I can't – I mean it, Daryl - _I_ _can't_ go through that again. If we have a hope of being together you have to talk to me, and not just yell at me.”

 

Daryl stared at their entwined fingers as she spoke, and glanced up at her again when she stopped. Her big green eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. Hell, he was was having enough trouble keeping his own at bay, but seeing that she was close to crying made him stare at their hands again so he didn't start bawling like a baby.

 

“I know I should'a talked to ya', Ash. I read all that… all that stuff, an' I panicked. I know I shoudn't have jumped to conclusions… I guess I'm just findin' your job harder to understand an' deal with than I thought I would, an' part of me is still in fuckin' shock that ya'd ever want anythin' to do with me in the first place.”

 

 

 

“Do you often look through the stuff I'm sent?”

 

He looked at her, confused, “No..don't think I've ever looked at anything you ain't shown me first.”

 

“So why that one?”

 

Daryl thought a moment, “That Italian woman in New Orleans was talkin' 'bout it, makin' me think 'bout it lots. Wondered what the hell was goin' on with it. When I saw it, I read it… freaked out.”

 

Aisling nodded “If you'd shown quite as much enthusiasm for any of the other scripts or treatments I've been sent, you'd have seen that I've been offered other roles requiring things like that… not quite as graphic perhaps, but things I've known you and I wouldn't be comfortable with me doing. I've always rejected them, and I rejected this one. I didn't shred it, because I've never shredded any of the others, because you and I both know that I'm a messy cow.”

 

Her laugh was soft as she acknowledged her slovenly behavior “If I was as tidy as you wanted me to be, you'd have never have seen it. I would have just got rid of it, if I wasn't so shit at housekeeping. The others probably made their way into the recycling pile eventually, and disappeared, and this one wouldn't have been any different.”

 

Still chewing at his lips, Daryl fixed his intense blue eyes on hers, and voiced what had been worrying him since before he'd even read the fucking script.

 

“When that woman asked you about the film, when you were bein' photographed, you were all cagey about it. Why was that, if you knew you weren't gonna do it? That's what got my head all messed up.”

 

Aisling leaned back against the couch and rubbed her hands over her face. If it wasn't eleven in the morning she would have loved a glass of wine to help her mind ease into this.

Instead, she took another deep breath and tried to keep her breathing calm.

 

“Because I hadn't seen the treatment – that's what you read – so I didn't have the whole picture yet. I wanted to give the director and writer a fair shot without disregarding the whole thing in an interview. The book is about a woman who bases her worth on being able to lure men away from their partners. She scavenges for love between other people's sheets... other people's marriages. There's a lot of sex in it, and when I met Mikkel, the director, there was lots of talk about body doubles and clever lighting, but I didn't know exactly what was involved yet so I was interested to see how they would handle it.”

 

She glanced at Daryl to see how he was taking what she was saying, and was surprised to see his blue eyes staring intently at her.

 

He hadn't run, yet, so she could carry on.

“He's a fantastic director, and the writing was beautiful, and I absolutely loved the character… but when I saw the treatment I knew for definite that I didn't want to do it, and I wasn't going to just blurt that out in an interview.”

 

Aisling paused, tired of her own voice at this point.

“You know, if I had known you had picked up on all that, or if you had told me that you had, I would have explained it all to you right there and then. I know that you're sometimes insecure about stuff, so I should have told you about it up front, but honestly… what kind of conversation would that have been? “ _An amazing director has offered me a role where I suck a guy off,_ _but I'm not going to do it._ ” I didn't mention it, just like I just didn't mention the others.”

 

She chanced a look at Daryl, who had added his other hand to their clasped ones, rubbing his thumb nervously across her skin.

 

The room was silent for a while as they both took in what the other had said, and they each thought about each others' reactions. When Daryl didn't say anything, her heart sank. He watched her shoulders slump, and sadness cross her face.

 

The events of the past couple of days flashed through her mind again, as they had many times since she had woken that morning.

 

She had almost lost him.

She had almost died.

She had seen things she'd wished she could have gone to her grave without ever seeing.

 

Rather than drive her determination to separate herself from Daryl, those events had made her realize that she couldn't ever do without him.

Daryl was her reason for breathing.

He was the light that brightened her days, and the warmth that soothed her bones.

He was the heat that made her feel alive.

He was the electricity that made her synapses snap into action.

 

 

 

“I should'a talked to ya 'bout it, an' I shoulda let ya talk,” Daryl said quietly, gruffly, barely more than a whisper, his eyes staring into hers with a focused intensity “an' ya shoulda talked to me 'bout it, rather than lettin' me find it on the floor.”

 

Aisling nodded “That's fair. It can't have been pleasant. Us not talking to each other can't go on. It's too hard… I love you too much for us to keep doing this.”

 

Daryl waited for a moment to see if she'd finished, then cleared his throat quietly.

“I thought you were dead, y'know that? Thought you were layin' on a post office floor with your brains all spread out on the tiles. An all I could think about was how maybe you'd died thinkin' I didn't still love you. Or thinkin' I didn't respect you. 'Cause I do. I love you, an' I respect ya, an I swear to whatever is up there that I'm gonna do my damnedest to stop this happenin' again.”

 

Daryl cleared his throat nervously, looking down at where her little hand still gripped his, then raised his eyes to look at her and asked “How'd ya feel 'bout us now?”

 

Aisling turned to look at him, his blue-eyed gaze meeting hers, and reached out to touch his bristly jaw with her soft white fingers.

 

“I love you too much for this to be the end.”

 

Daryl nodded, mutely.

They were okay. Well, as okay as they could be in the circumstances, but she hadn't left him.

 

He reached out and hooked his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, and pulled her forward to lean his forehead against hers.

 

“Love ya' so fuckin' much, Ash. Promise I ain't gonna let ya down, sweetheart. Me an you's what keeps me goin'. The best thing that ever happened in my whole life. Ain't ever gonna put that at risk again.”

 

 


	43. Chapter 43

 

_**Thank you to my new followers/favoriters, and thank you all for reading!** _

 

_**As always, I don't own Merle or Daryl.** _

 

 

 

The October Georgia sun was just rising, gently slipping it's warm orange and purple fingers beneath the curtains of Aisling and Daryl's bedroom as her eyelids flickered open.

She lay on her right side for a change, so that her repaired shoulder didn't take any of her weight, and Daryl lay behind her, with his arms wrapped around her. His hot breath ghosted over her neck with each slow exhalation, and as she shifted slightly in his arms to try to relieve pressure on her full bladder, his lips mumbled something inaudible , brushing against her skin.

 

Aisling gently wriggled free from his grasp and went to the bathroom, and on her return she paused for a moment to look at Daryl as he lay sleeping in their bed. He had kicked the covers off his body some time in the night, and now lay in just his blue and white pinstriped boxers, with his arms positioned out from his body, holding the ghost of her. She watched him stir, and move his body closer to where she should be, and a frown formed on his sleeping face when he failed to make contact with her.

Carefully, she slipped back between the covers and resumed her position beside him, pulling his arm over her waist, and his hand up to it's place over her breast. Immediately, he plastered himself to her body, his warm skin sticking to hers with the dampness and heat of sleep.

 

After a long and exhausting day yesterday, they had both fallen asleep pretty much as soon as they laid their heads on the pillows last night.

The police from Sharpsburg had come down to talk to her and take her statement. Daryl had sat by her side as she spoke to them, holding her hand in his. Her voice had been calm and level until she got to the part of her statement where she had watched the teller's body fall to the floor. Her voice broke, and she had cried quietly as she told the police how the woman's brain and skull fragments on the floor reminded her of the cheese curds produced in her grandmother's dairy when she was little. She gagged a little at the memory, and Daryl had pulled her into his body, whispering “s'okay Ash, s'okay” into her hair.

 

She had slept lots, between visits from Merle, Shaun and Chuck, and alternated between quiet and calm, and noisy, wet, shuddering sobs into the pillows of the couch or against the warm flannel of Daryl's chest. He had held her tightly, again whispering “s'okay, s'okay” against her ear as she processed the trauma she had gone through.

 

Her head was clearer this morning. Yes, she had gone through something that was more horrible than she had ever imagined. She had watched two people die, and had stared into the open skull of a woman just feet from her.

But she was alive.

She was _alive._

 

_Life isn't going to just happen to me any more. I'm going to seize it. I'm going to make everything matter. I'm going to make things better, be a better person, live a better life._

 

 

She blew out a deep breath of resolution, and as she did Daryl stirred behind her slightly, burying his face in her neck, mumbling out something about “...my girl...” against her warm skin.

He thumbed her nipple lightly through the thin fabric of the t-shirt she had worn to bed, and squeezed the soft globe of flesh gently in his sleep.

 

She smiled happily to herself as she twisted her neck slightly, allowing his mouth better access to the sensitive skin there, and pulled his arms closer around her as she lightly rubbed her naked ass against his crotch.

 

“Mmm… fuck, Ash...” Daryl whimpered quietly as his dick hardened where it nestled in the cleft of her bottom. He was in the limbo between sleep and wakefulness, but his groin was slightly more aware of things than his mind was yet.

 

His hand squeezed her breast again, as he pulled her even closer to his warm, solid body, and Aisling released a shudder of pleasure.

 

She felt him inhale deeply through his nose, as his face pressed into the hair at the nape of her neck, and one of his knees slid between hers, lifting her left leg slightly so that his hand could slide down from her breast to the smooth skin between her thighs.

 

He was awake now. His thick fingers found the little fleshy nub nestled within her folds and pressed down softly, drawing a quiet moan from her lips.

One finger slowly slid inside her, then another, while he thumbed circles around her clit, gently coaxing out an increasing warmth which spread out to her hips, down her legs, up into her stomach.

 

“Daryl… fuck...” she sighed, and wriggled her hips so as to urge his fingers further into her, “so good...”

 

She felt him chuckle sleepily against her skin as he ran his tongue slowly along her shoulder.

 

“You like that, huh? You like my fingers in ya', sweetheart?”

 

He kissed, sucked and nipped little spots along her flesh, as she nodded, words escaping her. She was back here with him, and everything was perfect.

 

“Tell me what ya' want, Ash,” he whispered against her ear, taking a brief break from sucking small kisses up her neck.

 

Her voice came out in a strangled moan, her esophagus seeming lazy as she tried to speak “Want you… want you inside me, Daryl.”

 

“All ya' had to do was ask, sweetheart” he moaned, and withdrew his fingers from her. He took his throbbing length in his hand, positioned it at her entrance, and teased her for a moment, rubbing the tip of him along her slick pussy… up and down, up and down… for a few seconds until she whimpered again.

 

“Daryl… please!”

 

He didn't need her to ask twice, and eagerly sank himself into her, her warm, tight wetness engulfing him.

 

She gasped as he filled her, and bucked her hips back so that he could go deeper. As she did, his hand snaked around her hip and went to the apex of her thighs, gently coaxing that little nub into giving her as much pleasure as possible.

 

His mouth was hot against her neck as he panted out hot little gusts on her skin, switching between kisses and little bites as he plunged into her.

 

_Fuck, ain't gonna last. She feels too goddam good…_

 

 

“Gonna come for me, Ash, huh sweetheart? Gonna come on me?” he growled against her ear as he thrust into her harder and faster, and all the while his rough fingers worked their magic on her little bundle of nerves. His own orgasm was close, but he held off as long as he could, and then she gasped loudly and called out his name as he felt her pulse around him.

 

“Fuuuck, Ash!” he roared as he allowed himself to come, and he gushed into her, his hips pumping jerkily as he did.

 

As the sensation subsided, he rubbed his open mouth along her neck and shoulder, and pulled her into him, wrapping his trembling body around her.

 

He hummed contentedly into the warm, damp skin where her neck met her shoulder, sending vibrations through her body.

 

They were quiet for a moment, as their bodies calmed down and their heartbeats returned to near normal, then he heard Aisling's voice as she whispered “I thought he was going to kill me, and all I thought about was you. His boots were a bit like yours… and I was so afraid that I was going to die, and I wouldn't be able to see you any more.”

 

Daryl moved quickly, across her body, so that he could lay down and look at her face without putting any pressure on her shoulder. He took her face tenderly in his rough hands, and whispered “tell me.”

 

She nodded, her big green eyes brimming with tears, and began to speak.

“His gun was pressing into my head, and it was so sore. It was cold, and it felt so heavy and solid, and all I could think about was how I wouldn't see you any more.”

Daryl used his thumbs to wipe the tears off her cheeks, and let her continue.

 

“When he pushed me away, I was thinking 'Thank God!', and I thought I had a chance. I mean, he could have shot me, but he didn't… and then there were shots, and the teller fell down… and the first thing that crossed my mind was 'Thank God, I'm alive.' He killed that woman, and I was relieved that it wasn't me.”

 

Her face crumpled and guilty sobs wracked her body as he pulled her towards him, tucking her head under his chin protectively as he made soothing noises.

 

“Ain't no counselor, sweetheart, but I'd guess that's probably normal. Ya survived… that's what yer mind's programed to do in life or death situations. Survival's all that's important in that moment. When I'm out in the woods, an' I bag a squirrel… ain't a load of other squirrel's sittin' round cryin' about it. They're off outta there. Survivin'.”

 

Aisling looked up at him, and wailed “I'm not a squirrel, Daryl!” as a new bout of sobs racked her little body.

 

_Fuck. I sure got a knack for sayin' the wrong fuckin' thing._

 

“Hey, look at me,” he hooked his thumb under her chin and tilted her head up so that he could look into her eyes. “I know y'ain't a squirrel, Ash. All I'm sayin' is that we do what we gotta do to survive. It's built into us, y'know? Bein' glad you ain't dead don't mean you're a bad person… just mean's you're human.”

 

He allowed her to cry against his chest, until eventually her sobs subsided and her breathing calmed, and she wiped her face and nose with her hand.

 

“Sorry,” she mumbled “… it just hit me all of a sudden.”

 

“Y'aint gotta apologize, Ash,” he whispered as he pressed his lips to her forehead “That cop gave ya some numbers… people to talk to 'bout what happened. Reckon it's a good idea. I'll go with ya' if ya' want.”

 

She nodded against the soft hair that was scattered across his chest and asked “Did you speak to anyone, when you were little?”

 

Social workers and teachers had given him lists of numbers, but Merle had insisted that if he spoke to to anyone he would be taken into care, and he'd be even more alone then. He didn't have much, but he would be damned if he'd let them take him away from the little he did have. A brother who dropped by from time to time was all he had, and he didn't want to lose him.

 

“Naw… probably should have, though,” he whispered into her hair “might've helped.”

 

A comfortable silence settled between them as they both contemplated their own demons.

Daryl wondered how his life might have been different if he'd taken the helpful hands extended to him, and how he might have been a different man now. He might have avoided making all the mistakes he'd made with Aisling if he'd spoken to someone.

Aisling thought about what he'd said about surviving, and how it was a natural instinct. She knew that she needed to talk to someone about what had happened, and resolved to make an appointment as soon as she could.

Daryl's past had fucked him up, and he hadn't spoken to anyone about it. He was like a walking Public Information Anouncement on accepting help.

If he had spoken to someone, he might have learned not to be so hard on himself.

Spared himself some pain.

Learned that he was worthy of love.

 

They both slipped quietly off into sleep, wrapped in each other's arms, thinking about what might have been.


	44. Chapter 44

 

**Thank you for reading x**

 

The plans Daryl had made in his head as he lay in bed listening to Aisling's quiet breathing beside him all began to fall infuriatingly by the wayside as soon as he got up.

 

If a boyfriend scaling system existed he guessed he was currently below 'Merle' level right now, and that made him feel ashamed, and angry with himself. But, he was determined to try and get back up that scale and put things right.

He was going to look after Aisling today. Show her how much he loved her, and how thankful he was that he had her safely back with him.

He'd make them some breakfast in bed, then they'd take it easy and spend the day together, doing whatever it was that she wanted to do.

If he could persuade her that they could do whatever it was that she wanted to do while she straddled him naked in bed, then all the better.

 

First off, he'd almost killed himself when he skidded in a puddle of water in the bathroom as he tumbled out of the shower at the sound of the doorbell downstairs. In his haste to answer the door before Aisling woke, he'd half ran, half fell down the stairs, all the while trying to wrap a towel around his slim hips as he went.

Avoiding the eyes of the flower delivery man in the doorway, and hiding behind the door as much as he could, he'd grabbed the big orange and red bouquet while still successfully keeping his towel in place. Another delivery van pulled up in the driveway behind the one already there, and he swore loudly to himself and didn't care whoever else happened to hear it.

Laden down awkwardly with three floral gifts of varying sizes and colors, he'd somehow managed to kick the door closed with his foot and make it to the kitchen without dropping any of them.

 

He'd had to abandon the towel on the floor as soon as the door was closed, but he found that he didn't actually mind much. In fact, having spent most of his life trying to keep his body as covered up as possible, he was finding the freedom of living with Aisling more relaxing than he'd ever imagined he would.

For a man who previously had only ever really stripped off to shower, strolling out of the kitchen and up the stairs as naked as the day he was born felt oddly liberating.

 

 

Padding quietly around the kitchen on bare feet a short while later, he put some eggs and bacon on to cook, and went outside to have a quick cigarette and enjoy the crisp fall air a little. When the doorbell rang again he quickly went to answer it with a face on him like thunder.

What was it with people determined to wake her up today?

 

He recognized the two girls at the door from the makeup department on the show, and was about to tell them to go away because she was asleep, when he heard her voice from the top of the stairs.

As he opened his mouth to protest, the smoke alarm started beeping loudly and the acrid smell of burnt eggs began to float out from the kitchen.

 

“Fuckin' great!” he exclaimed, and left Aisling to her guests and stomped off to the kitchen to begin clearing up, opening the back door and windows to clear the smoke as he threw the burnt eggs, still in their pan, out the door and into the yard in what could only be described as a temper tantrum.

 

People, phone calls, and more flowers arrived over the afternoon, leaving Daryl feeling more than a little put out. He didn't want to sit in the living room with a stream of people he didn't really know, who weren't interested in talking to him anyway, so he mostly sulked in the still stinky kitchen and took phone messages while he huffed and tutted to himself.

 

*.*

 

It wasn't until Shaun arrived, late-afternoon, that Daryl saw or spoke to anyone he actually knew apart from the few minutes he and Aisling were actually alone, when he was able to snatch a few frustrated kisses with her.

 

Thrusting a foil-covered casserole into his hands, his friend cleared his throat “Corinne… uh, well… she made this for y'all. Thought ya might like not havin' to cook today.”

 

“Thanks man,” Daryl replied, and put the dish in the refrigerator “Don't think Aisling's eaten nothin' yet. Too busy entertainin'.”

Shaun sat down at the table, sniffed briefly at the weird smell in the room, but didn't comment on it.

 

“How's she doin'?”

 

Daryl thought for a moment, then nodded “Doin' okay, s'pose. Cops came round yesterday, got her to go over what happened… that was tough for her, y'know? Got her thinkin' about all the shit that happened, and the stuff she saw.”

 

They talked a little about what Aisling had told the police. Daryl didn't go into any detail about what she had said, and certainly didn't tell his friend about how she'd broken down in the early hours of that morning, but Shaun could gather from what he _did_ say that Aisling had been through a lot.

He couldn't imagine going through an experience like that himself, never mind having Corinne go through it on her own after an argument of the magnitude Daryl's and Aisling's had been.

 

He cleared his throat before he said what his wife had made him swear on pain of death not to say. “Corinne feels like shit 'bout what she did… comin' round here, launchin' into Aisling an' not givin' her a chance to tell her side of the story.”

 

Daryl nodded and chewed on his thumb as he sat at the table “Know how she feels.”

 

“She wanted to come round yesterday an' today, to apologize...” Shaun said, looking uncomfortable, “but I figured it might be wise to wait… let the dust settle a little, y'know?”

 

Daryl gave a little nod of agreement and quirked his mouth up in a half smile “Yeah, probably wise.”

When Aisling had found out that Shaun had been round while she slept the day before, she had pointedly asked “Was he alone?” and had huffed out a terse “Good” when told that he was.

Clearly, she wasn't ready to speak to Corinne just yet.

 

Shaun and Daryl talked about work for a few minutes, both happy to slip back into familiar conversational territory, until loud knocking and a booming voice from the front door announced the arrival of Merle.

 

“Ya'll gonna hurry up an' let the best lookin' man in Goat Rock in? Know that pretty lil' thing in there ain't gonna get no better til' she gets herself some good ol' AMA approved Merle love!”

 

Daryl shook his head and got up to answer the door, muttering “asshole” as he went, leaving Shaun to chuckle quietly in the kitchen.

 

“Darylina!” Merle greeted him with a broad grin as he thrust a bunch of slightly squashed flowers, and a six pack of beers into his brothers hands, and slapped him soundly on the shoulder.

“Where's my lil' colleen, huh?”

 

Nodding his head towards the living room, Daryl looked over his big brother's passing shoulder to see Heather close behind him. Her eyes narrowed when she saw him, her mouth fixed in a straight, unsmiling line, but she did at least nod her head in recognition of his presence as she followed Merle into the house.

 

“Why ain't you got a sling on that shoulder, missy? Should have that arm all strapped up!” Merle quizzed Aisling as he squatted down in front of her as she sat on the couch.

 

“The doctor said there was no real benefit to wearing a sling. Apparently it doesn't make much difference to my shoulder, so long as I don't go doing anything too strenuous with it, which is fine by me.”

 

Aisling gave Heather a one-armed hug as she sat down beside her on the couch, and said goodbye to the three friends who had come round to visit, who took Merle's loud arrival as a good time to leave, promising to meet up for lunch later in the week.

 

Merle was having none of it.

“I've been patched up more times than I care to remember Sugartits, an' that quack's talkin' outta his ass. Gotta have that shoulder immobilized!”

 

“Leave her be, Merle!” Daryl reprimanded from the doorway. “You get some medical degree that I don't know about? From the University of Bullshit maybe?”

 

Merle stood up and pointed at Aisling “I'm only lookin' out for the girl! Seems as though you just sat there holdin' your damn purse in your lap an' let Doogie Howser back there feed her a load of shit!”

 

Aisling sat on the couch and grinned at the exchange taking place over her head. Merle really was just looking out for her, and she found it kind of sweet.

 

“I'll be fine, Merle,” she said softly, “I appreciate your concern though.”

 

“Fine, fine... you know best, apparently,” he grumbled as he went to follow Daryl into the kitchen, to leave the girls to talk. “But if you end up unable to _look after_ my baby brother 'cause your damn arm's gone all gimpy, an's about as useful as tits on a bull, don't come runnin' to Ol' Merle.”

 

“Merle!” Daryl yelled from the kitchen, “Shut up!”

 

 

*.*

 

 

 

 

The brothers trekked back to the house through the crisp undergrowth in the woods around Daryl and Aisling's house a couple of hours later.

 

Shaun had left the brothers to their bickering about how qualified Aisling's young physician really was, and shortly after they had decided to head out and explore the woods around the house a little. Daryl had been out there plenty, and was looking forward to showing Merle around.

 

There was a small dilapidated barn way out on the edge of the property that Daryl had considered fixing up, and he wanted to see what his brother thought of it. In the back of his mind he had a notion that maybe it might make a good workshop, where he could work on cars, or bikes, or just fidget about with things.

He enjoyed doing stuff with his hands, and having the space to do just that was exciting him a little.

 

As they walked back to the house through the forest, Daryl told Merle about the apology that had been printed in the Daily Post that morning. Sue, Aisling's agent, had sent a scan of it through to them both, and Merle squinted at Daryl's phone as he read it.

 

 

_A Sunday Post article of 02 September claimed that_ _Ms._ _Aisling O'Brien and_ _Mr._ _And_ _rew_ _Gardener had engaged in a relationship_ _over many years_ _. In fact there was no such relationship.  
The same article claimed that _ _Mr._ _Daryl Dixon had been romantically involved with a Ms. Cassie Young. This was not the case. Mr. Dixon ha_ _d_ _met Ms. Young in a social capacity_ _only_ _and has never had any_ _intimate_ _involvement with her.  
We apologise to Ms. O'Brien, _ _Mr. Gardener_ _and Mr. Dixon and have agreed to pay them damages and costs._ _Ms. O'Brien and Mr. Dixon have_ _requested_ _that their damages_ _be paid to a_ _drug and alcohol rehabilitation_ _charity of their choice._

 

Merle scoffed as he finished reading.

 

“Look at it!” he spluttered, jabbing a finger at the phone. “Couldn't get it no smaller, could they! Hell, why didn't they just go ahead an' print it underneath the damn bar code?”

The apology was buried on an inside page of the print edition underneath a large, almost full page, advertizement for hearing aids.

 

“It's tiny, yeah” Daryl admitted, prodding a deceased puff adder with his foot, “It's the principle though, ain't it? They've said they were wrong. We knew it… now maybe the three or four people who actually read that will know it too.”

 

 

*.*

 

 

“Did you have a stroke, boy?” Merle shook his head at his brother in disbelief.

“Ya'll gave all that money away?”

 

Daryl shrugged as they trudged through the darkening woods, back towards his and Aisling's house, clutching the dead snake he intended to waggle in her face and freak her out a little.

“Didn't want nothin' to do with their money. Better it goes to help people, I reckon.”

 

“Never had ya down as some philanthropist, baby brother. How's about ya consider ol' Merle next time you're throwin' money away, huh?”

 

Daryl glanced at Merle as they made their way closer to the house, noticing the serious expression on his face instead of the grin he had expected.

 

“What? You got a job now, don'tcha? You gotta be makin' some money?”

 

Merle nodded in the twilight, “Ain't never enough though, is it brother? Wanna be able to treat Heather real nice an' all, but there just ain't enough left at the end of the week, y'know?”

 

Daryl nodded in agreement. He felt the same. He earned less in a month than Aisling spent on artisan fucking bread and fancy olive oil and beauty products, and if he was honest it made him anxious.

He wanted to take care of her properly, and he couldn't do that on his salary. And if they ever did settle down to have a family, how the hell would he afford it?

She was the breadwinner, and that made his inner male chauvinist twitchy.

 

They cleared the trees as the light fell enough for the lights in the house to guide their way forward, but all of a sudden Daryl stopped short and let out a hiss as he looked at the rear of the house he shared with Aisling.

She was standing on the porch, and a young man stood with her, his tattooed arms wrapped around her waist as she smiled up at him.

 

“What the fuck…?” Merle asked as Daryl sprang into action and sprinted past him down across the grass.

 

The man was still holding Aisling as he drew up just beyond the porch, wishing he had brought his crossbow so that he could level at this asshole's head.

 

The only thing he had on him was the snake, so he yelled “Hey!” and threw the dead reptile at the man's head. There was a loud smack as the creature collided with his head with a satisfying smack, and the man yelped and released Aisling as he flailed around, flapping his hands in front of him with a look of panic on his chiseled face.

 

“Who the hell's this prick?” Daryl bellowed, as Merle caught up to him, panting out a “Yeah!” of support.

 

The stranger was a little taller than Daryl, and pretty well built too. Gym built, not out-hauling-deer built. He had long dark hair that was tied up in some kind of bun at the nape of his neck, and a thick, dark bushy beard.

 

He stared at the dead reptile on the floor, then at Daryl, and asked incredulously “Did you just throw a snake at me?”

 

“Shut up!” Daryl shouted, advancing up the steps of the porch to where Aisling and the man stood. “I asked, who the hell are ya'?”

 

_Why's she fuckin' smirkin' like that? What in the hell's goin' on?_

 

Aisling stepped forward between the men and held out one hand towards Daryl, and the other towards the bearded man who was staring at him as though he wasn't sure if what was happening was real or not. She was smiling, and it looked as though she was trying not to laugh.

 

“This is Daryl,” she said as she pulled his hand into hers, “And Daryl, this is my little brother Blue.”


	45. Chapter 45

_**Hello, and thank you, to everyone who favorited/followed, and big love to those who reviewed;** _

 

__

_**Apparently there is someone on a spoiler site who has a name similar to mine, and I was asked if it was me. It's not. I chose my name when I registered here because of a Pixies song which was playing at the time.** _

 

_**Same old, same old… Daryl and Merle aren't mine, everything else is but I made it all up.** _

 

_**Thank you for reading, and on with the show!** _

 

 

“Brother, huh?” Merle asked, eyeing the stranger up and down as he stepped up onto the deck and stood next to Aisling, between the bearded man and Daryl. “Don't recall ever holdin' my brother all _cozy_ like that.”

 

Blue glanced away from the man who had hit him in the head with a dead snake, to the older man beside him who was speaking to him “She just hurt her shoulder. How else would you suggest I hug her?”

When he'd gone to hug her initially he'd reached out to her shoulders, but thought the better of it and lowered his hands to slip around her hips to lock at the base of her spine. It felt a little weird – it wasn't how they usually embraced - but it felt good to reconnect with his big sister again, after months of not seeing each other.

 

Merle nodded slowly, and shrugged, accepting Blue's point. His eyes took in the man standing beside Aisling, and he noticed how similar they looked. They shared the same straight dark hair, green eyes and full lips. If Aisling was a man, he was pretty sure that's what she'd look like.

The tension between Daryl and Blue was palpable, and Merle decided – with uncharacteristic tact – to leave them alone to work things out.

“Well, I'll leave you good folks to acquaint yourselves, while I go 'an see what my girl's up to,” and at that he went into the house and shut the door behind him.

 

Aisling wasn't sure what to do. Should she go indoors and leave her brother and her Daryl to get to know each other, or should she stay and try to help things along?

 

“So… a snake?” Blue asked, glancing down at the dead creature at his feet.

 

Daryl shifted uneasily, and cleared his throat “Yeah. Was meant for Ash, but I saw ya' both an'… didn't know who ya were.”

 

“You were going to throw a snake at me?” Aisling piped up, and took a step closer to her brother as she stared at Daryl incredulously.

 

“Was just gonna wave it in your face,” Daryl muttered feebly, realizing how stupid it sounded, “… thought it would be funny.”

 

He felt so fucking stupid right now.

 

_Who the hell brings home a dead snake to wave in their girl's face? A backwoods, no-manners, redneck dumbass, that's who._

 

“That would have been funny as fuck,” Blue's voice shook Daryl out of his introspection “Connor and I chased her round our parent's house with a decapitated mouse that the cat brought in once. She totally flipped her shit.”

 

Aisling glared at her brother, then at Daryl, who she could tell was trying to bite back a smirk.

 

“They pinned me down on the stairs and rubbed the neck stump all over my face! I could have died of the plague or something!”

 

Blue looked at Daryl and raised an eyebrow as he asked “So, she does all that melodramatic shit with you too, yeah?”

 

“Fuck you both!” Aisling announced, and spun on her heel as she flounced off into the house.

 

*.*

 

 

The two men stood in an awkward silence on the deck until Blue stepped forward and extended a hand to the uncomfortable looking man that his sister had shacked up with.

 

“Let's do this properly, yeah? Good to finally meet you, Daryl.”

 

Daryl wiped his hand on his pants leg, then reached out to accept Aisling's brother's handshake, mumbling something that sounded like 'yeah, you too' as he did.

 

“Thanks for taking care of her, and I don't mean just since the shit that happened in the post office. She moved over here and had that dickhead Andy making trouble for her right from the start, and from what she's told me you were there for her every step of the way.”

 

Daryl didn't know what to say, so he gave his default grunt and nod as he shifted uncomfortably on the deck in front of the younger man.

 

“You love her lots, don't you?” Blue asked, tilting his head to one side as he observed the quiet, scruffy man in front of him. Even at the age of twenty two Blue had been in love more than once, and recognized it when he saw it.

 

His first love, a friend of Aisling's called Rachel, had swept him up in a whirl of lust when he was seventeen, and soon he'd grown to feel that being with her was the closest thing to heaven that he'd ever know. That was, even after all these years he was sure, real – if unrequited - love.

The second, a married man he met while he was an intern at a London advertising agency, had introduced him to another kind of physical connection, and he'd fallen for him quicker than he had for Rachel. It was only a couple of weeks before he was staring at the man's LinkedIn profile, thinking 'I Love You!'. He knew that the older man didn't love him, but he knew that _he_ loved _him_ and what they'd had together, so he rolled with them.

 

This thing his sister had with the gruff, aggressive redneck who'd sprinted out of the darkness of the woods to protect her, went beyond what he had experienced with other people.

Nobody had ever moved across the world to be with him.

Nobody had ever thrown a dead snake at someone to protect him.

Nobody had ever looked at him with as much fire in their eyes.

 

Daryl eyed him for a moment, then dropped his gaze to his shoes and nodded in answer to Blue's question.

“Never loved nobody before your sister. It's all about Ash. She's the one for me, y'know?”

 

Blue thought about what Daryl had said, and gave a little nod of his own.

He looked over the man in front of him, in his ripped combat pants, and sleeveless plaid shirt, and smiled.

If, when they were growing up, someone had asked him who his big sister would wind up with, he'd never have pictured the man before him.

He'd have guessed that she'd take up with an artist, or an actor, and would swan around Europe in a blur of premieres and gallery openings.

He would never have pictured his big sister squatting down by the Georgia woods with a man who smelt of tobacco, leather and sweat.

But, somehow, it all made sense.

 

Aisling and Daryl, even though he would never have pictured them together in a million years, fitted together like bacon and maple syrup, like salt and caramel. They were a combination which shouldn't work, but which totally did.

 

If what this sister and this weird, mono-syllabic hillbilly had wasn't love, he didn't know what love was.

 

 

*.*

 

 

 

“What kind of a fuckin' name is _Blue_?” Merle snorted as he took the beer Aisling offered him and raised it to his lips to take a long drink.

 

Heather chuckled beside him, “It's as good a name as _Merle_ , sweetheart.”

 

Aisling came back to the table on the deck with beers for everyone. She ran her hand affectionately over her brother's still snake-impact reddened forehead and explained “When my parents had me and my older brother Connor, they were still building up their business, but by the time Blue came along they were mixing with rock nobility. Their offspring name choices rubbed off on Mum and Dad.”

 

“Bet you got a whole heap of shit at school, with a name like Blue,” Merle offered, taking a gulp of the beer in his bottle.

 

Blue shrugged “Not really. I went to school with a lot of artists and musician's kids. In my group of friends there was a Zappa, and a Moon. There was an Agamemnon in my year”

 

Merle nodded, trying to keep a straight face, but then glanced at his brother who was biting his lips so hard he thought he might draw blood. Daryl's eyes met his, and the two brothers collapsed into fits of laughter.

 

“Aga-fuckin'-memnon!” Merle howled, while Daryl wheezed beside him, his broad shoulders shaking with laughter, “who the fuck would wanna call their kid that?”

 

Blue smiled as he watched the two brothers laugh.

He was well aware that he had grown up in an environment far detached from reality, and was able to see the humor in it.

“I remember Agamemnon!” Aisling squealed, “He was the kid whose Mum published that book with photos of her and her boyfriend getting jiggy with it, wasn't he?”

 

Blue nodded “Agamemnon's Mum was a sex therapist. She wrote a book all about sexual therapies… with her and his soon-to-be step-dad in all the photos. You can guess how that went down with his fourteen year old classmates.”

 

Merle let loose a loud guffaw, while Daryl struggled to breathe and had to settle for releasing a series of breathless “haaa”'s until he was able to get his breathing under control again.

 

Aisling smiled across at her little brother, glad that he'd read the situation right and knew enough to let the O'Brien sense of humor ease the tension.

 

Blue was the brother she'd been closest to, during the little time they'd spent together growing up. Both Blue and her older brother Connor had attended a private day school near their home, but Aisling had been packed off to a boarding school at the other end of the country as soon as she was old enough to be accepted into one.

 

Still, at Christmas, Easter, and summer holidays, it was her little brother that she spent most time with. They shared a similar sense of humor, and both found it harder to accept their parents emotional, and physical, distance than their older brother apparently did.

 

The kitchen timer buzzed, so Heather got up to get Corinne's casserole out of the oven where it had been warming up.

 

“Could you help me please, Daryl?” she called over her shoulder, jolting him from his laughter.

 

_She gonna get me in there an' tear me a new one? Woman hates me… why does she want me to help her?_

 

Nervously, he followed her inside and hovered near the back door with his arms folded defensively across his chest as he watched her pull the casserole from the oven and rest it on the trivet by the hob. Calmly, she put the pot holders down on the worktop and turned to face him.

 

“I still want to punch you right now Daryl, but Aisling has forgiven you, and I'm dating your brother, so I need to get past that. I'll work on it.”

Daryl nodded and attempted a small smile, but Heather fixed him with a hard stare and continued “If you ever, ever, hurt Aisling like that again she will leave you, and I will help her to pack her bags. Then I will rip your balls off. Do you understand me?”

 

“I know I was wrong, Heather,” Daryl grumbled “Tryin' hard to put it all right.”

 

“Good,” she replied “but that doesn't change anything between us. Don't make it weird, and we'll be okay again... eventually, and until then I'll tolerate you.”

 

Daryl guessed that was as good as he was going to get from Aisling's most local best friend, and shrugged his broad shoulders in acceptance. He wasn't happy about it, but it would do.


	46. Chapter 46

 

_**Hello from Austin, TX! I'm at SXSW for the next few days, and due to a schedule mix-up I ended up with an entire day to myself after a crazy week. It was great to be able to catch up on all my subscribed stories and actually finish this chapter up. I met up with some friends, saw a few bands, and as soon as I finish up here I'm going head to my bed tonight a very relaxed FaceofAlison.** _

_**Thanks to anyone who favorited/followed this story, and big kisses to those who commented.** _

“No… stay here,” Aisling mumbled sleepily against the warm skin of Daryl's shoulder as he carefully tried to wriggle out of bed without disturbing her early the next morning. The feel of her lips and warm breath on his skin already had him regretting his decision to leave the comfort of their bed at all.

 

“Takin' your brother huntin', Ash. Remember?”

 

She had a vague memory of the two men deciding, with beer-fuelled enthusiasm, that they were going to head out into the woods early the next morning. Aisling wasn't sure that Blue had actually meant it though, and suspected that he had just got swept up in the concept of being a burly woods-man after a few too many drinks.

He wasn't exactly what you'd call an 'outdoors guy'.

When they'd visited their grandparents in Spain, Blue had been the one to squeal and run away when they saw any kind of lizard, and regularly screamed himself silly when a fish brushed against his leg when they swam in the warm Mediterranean off their grandfather's yacht.

 

“It's not even daylight yet,” she grumbled as she slid her arm across Daryl's smooth stomach in the darkness to grip onto his hip, trying to anchor him against her.

 

“Best to get out early if we wanna catch anythin', sweetheart,” he whispered into her hair as he twisted round to kiss the top of her head “Sooner we go, sooner we're back.”

 

Truthfully, Daryl was a split-second away from deciding to fuck the whole hunting plan and just spend the day in bed with Aisling, since he'd been given a few days off by Shaun as a result of Aisling's ordeal, but he'd made a promise and Daryl was nothing if not dependable.

 

“But Daryyyyyl,” she whined softly, snaking her hand down to card her fingers through his thick, unruly pubic hair “… want you...”.

Her little fingers curled around his soft penis, drawing a low groan from him as she slowly began to move her hand around him, gently coaxing him to life. His morning wood had subsided long ago, as he'd got his mind ready to head out and hunt, while she had slept, soft and quiet, beside him. Now his dick twitched happily at her touch and hardened quickly, as his hips began to move his back and forth, slowly fucking her hand.

“Was all set to head out, Ash,” he moaned against her mouth as he bent his head down to kiss her. He sucked gently on her full lower lip and groaned, “You're such a fuckin' distraction, sweetheart, ya' know that?”

 

Aisling nodded, and let go of his dick to cup her hands around his face, running her fingers along the scruff of brown and gray hair that sprouted there.  
Slowly, she slid her body over his, and positioned her knees either side of his angular hips as she lavished kisses on his mouth, dipping her tongue in to swirl around his.

Then she pulled back and his erection twitched against his stomach as he watched her gaze slip along his body, admiring him laying before her in all his naked glory.

 

She reached down to angle his swollen cock between her already slick labia.

“Don't you want me to distract you?” she asked, her voice quiet and breathy, as she paused for a moment, poised to sink down onto him... ready to bury him inside her.

“Because, if you want me to stop...” she paused to lean down and flick the pink tip of her tongue across his lips, eliciting a gasp from him “… if you'd rather go mooching round the woods with my brother than than be in my pussy, I'll stop...” she breathed into his open mouth.

 

“Fuuuuck, Ash,” Daryl whimpered as his hips thrust up, away from the bed, eager to feel her warm, wet heat around him, but she placed a small hand firmly on his belly to keep him still. His hands were full with her soft breasts, and he enjoyed gently squeezing the heavy flesh in his hands, pulling on her hard nipples

 

God, Daryl loved sex with Aisling.

 

He loved the quick, frantic moments when e got the better of him as she leaned over the kitchen counter looking at her iPad, that perfect heart-shaped ass beckoning to him, and he would get carried away with lust and yank down her jeans and panties to bury himself in her right then and there.

He also loved the quiet, dark nights in their bed when they would make love for hours, taking their time to soothe, caress, and excite, each others bodies.

 

But, Daryl thought, his favorite times might just be the mornings like this one, when he would wake her with soft, hot kisses on her skin, or she would grind against him, letting him know that she was awake and that she wanted him. Sometimes he would wake with her full, plump lips encircling his morning erection, and it made his heart rate rise to quite possibly dangerous levels.

Aisling's warm, soft body pressed against him, still drowsy from sleep, was the sexiest fucking thing he'd ever felt.

 

Aisling used her hand to slip his throbbing cock slowly up and down along her entrance, teasing sensations from him as the muscles in her thighs trembled, and then suddenly, she stopped and pulled back slightly.

He gasped, annoyed at the deprivation.

 

“Do you want me to stop, so you can go?” she breathed against his ear, pushing his hair, which had grown longer in the past few months, away with one hand so that she could run her tongue around the outer shell, before she sucked the fleshy lobe between her full lips

 

Daryl groaned, low and deep in his throat, and shook his head “Don't wanna go nowhere, Ash” he mumbled and his lips brushed against the soft, pink nipple that was bobbing just beyond proper reach of his mouth “Just wanna be in ya. Yer' damn brother can wait.”

  
Then, he pulled her closer and ran his tongue down hungrily from her collar bone to her breast, where his tongue laved against her nipple, relishing the feeling as he felt it become stiff and erect. He trapped it gently between his teeth and tugged gently, earning a low moan that escaped from her full, parted lips.

 

He watched, entranced, as Aisling's eyes fluttered closed as she sank down onto him and he disappeared into her.

“Fuuuuuck, Ash...” Daryl whimpered at the feel of her tight, wet walls surrounding him.

 

“Is this what you want, Daryl?” she moaned quietly as she moved her hips rhythmically, raising and lowering herself around him. “Do you want my pussy on you?”

 

A low growl escaped Daryl's throat, as he gripped her hips tightly with his thick fingers, raising his hips to meet her “Prettiest lil' pussy there is, sweetheart. An' it's all mine, ain't that right?"

 

Daryl's previous sexual experiences had all been silent, soulless couplings, and the urge to speak during sex was something he'd never experienced before Aisling.

Recently, he'd been getting bolder, talking to her beyond the small utterances that had sneaked out when they'd first got together.

Now, they both spoke to each other lots during sex, and he loved the sound of dirty words dripping from her mouth as much as he loved saying them to her.

It was hot as hell, hearing those words come from her pretty mouth, and it spurred him on to reciprocate.

 

He also enjoyed talking to her while they had sex, much to his surprise, allowing all his thoughts out. The first couple of times he was a little embarrassed, when they'd finished up and he'd thought back on the things he'd said to her. But, as he allowed himself to do it more, it became easier to allow the thoughts in his head to spill out of his mouth.

 

“Mmmm, yes,” she breathed, and he gazed up at him with her eyelids hooded with lust.

Her eyes shut again as she rocked against him, making him slide against that sweet spot inside her with every upward thrust of his hips

“Make me come, Daryl… I'm so close”.

 

Daryl never failed to take pleasure in knowing that it was him who was drawing these sensations from his girl, and that thought went straight to his cock which was throbbing pleasurably inside her.

 

His inner Bossy Daryl needed no further encouragement, so he growled “On top, now!” and flipped her over so that he was on top of her. “I'll make ya come, sweetheart, don't you worry.”

 

He roughly grabbed Aisling's legs, hoisting one over each of his broad shoulders, and rammed himself into her with a loud grunt.

“This it, Ash? This what ya want, sweetheart? My girl likes my cock inside her, huh?"

 

“Fuck, Daryl, that's it… more, please,” she whimpered as he plowed into her and his hand slipped between their bodies to rub his thick, calloused fingertips in tight circles on her swollen clit “so close… fuck”

It drove Aisling crazy when he took control, manhandling her body for their mutual pleasure.

She dug her fingers into his hips, encouraging him to thrust harder.

 

Daryl watched her eyelids flutter closed and felt her hot, wet walls squeeze around him as her orgasm bubbled and simmered inside her.

 

_Fuck, ain't nothin' better than watchin' my girl come apart when I'm buried inside her._

 

 

His soft, dark hair fell forward and brushed against her sensitive skin as he leaned down to gently bite in that inviting spot just above her collar bone. The sensation of his teeth on her skin together with the gentle sucking that followed it, was enough to send the smoldering re they both were feeling to burn brightly and explode within them, sending Aisling to a shuddering climax moments before Daryl joined her in a series of low, animalistic grunts as he spilled into her.

 

When their breathing had calmed down a little, and they both lay, exhausted, in each others arms, a voice at their bedroom door jolted them back to the here and now.

 

“Does 'first thing' have a different meaning in Georgia?” Blue's voice was muffled as he spoke to them from the hallway “Because I woke up way before sunrise, ready to go out and kill shit with your hunter-man, and all I've heard is you two going at it for the past half hour. As close as we are, Ash, that's not what a brother wants to hear.”

 

*.*

 

Blue followed closely behind Daryl as they made their way through the woods, trying to keep his feet as quiet as the hunter's in front of him.

He had hunted before. He had gone out with his Dad and brother on organized pheasant shoots on his Dad's friend's estates a couple of times. Another time, when he was eighteen they had been invited to a shoot at a Scottish estate as the guests of an American pop star who loved the idea of playing landed gentry. That hunt had felt almost like stepping onto the set of ' _Downton Abbey_ _'_ , with everyone decked out in tweed plus-twos, with ponies carrying a picnic and all the necessary china and glassware in wicker panniers strung over their backs. The experience was so Edwardian in essence that when he'd returned to the castle that was rented for the weekend he had had felt momentarily unnerved by the sight of his cell phone laying where he'd left it on his bed. He had ended up shagging the pop star that weekend when she'd come to his room, even though she was a good twenty years older than him. He didn't have it in him to refuse her, and he figured it was one for the 'life experience album'.

 

Out here, in the quiet Georgia woods it was just him and his sister's gruff boyfriend, in jeans, with a ziploc bag of jerky that Daryl had thrust at him when they'd stopped for a break. When they stopped a little while ago Daryl had unzipped his pants and took a piss against a tree not even six feet away from Blue, while he tried to ignore the sound of the other man's urine spattering the forest floor and concentrated on feeling manly by scraping the dirt from under his finger nails with the knife Daryl had provided him with.

 

Later, as they walked back towards the house, Daryl with some squirrels, and a rabbit fastened to a rope slung low around his waist, the two men talked about what it was like living with Aisling.

 

“Don't you think she's the messiest fucking creature on earth?” Blue asked the hunter trudging alongside him.

Daryl snorted “Yeah, I'd kinda noticed that. My brother weren't exactly what you'd call tidy, but next to your sister it was like livin' with Mary fuckin' Poppins.”

 

“My parent's housekeeper refused to go into her room when she was home, because of the state she left the place in. She used to call Ash's room 'The Pit'.”

 

“Can believe that,” Daryl muttered quietly, then thought for a moment “She said your folks sent her away to school when she was little. How come they didn't send you away?”

 

Blue shrugged “You'd have to ask them that. I really don't know, but I think it was because Ash has always been headstrong, y'know? She's not one to sit by and accept things, like when she has a different opinion, and perhaps my parents were just distancing themselves from that before it became a problem they had to actually deal with. Maybe they thought the schools would knock a little subordination into her, because they thought they didn't have the time, or the inclination, to do it themselves. That's my theory anyway.”

 

They walked through the woods in silence for another while, until Daryl asked “Did it bother you? Your parents sendin' her away?”

 

Blue nodded and turned to face him “She was my closest friend, and all of a sudden she wasn't there anymore. I mean, I got used to it, but it was fucking hard.” He looked at Daryl for a moment, his green eyes looking over the hunter wondering how he'd take the next piece of information “When I was fifteen and realized I liked boys, I tried calling her at school but they wouldn't let me talk to her. I had to wait until she came home from holidays to talk to her about it, and by that point I was in a right fucking state about it all. I hated my parents for that.”

 

“You're a qu- ... gay?” Daryl asked, stopping Merle's words from springing out of his mouth as he stared at his feet, not trusting himself to look up at his girlfriend's brother. He couldn't give a shit what this guy did in bed, but a lifetime spent under Merle's influence meant that he was afraid some of what he'd grown up around would be visible in his eyes, and he was ashamed.

 

Blue shook his head “No, I like people, not just men or women. I'm Bi, if you want a label.”

 

Daryl shrugged “Don't give a fuck.”

 

_Damn, that didn't come out how I wanted._

 

He cleared his throat and tried again. “Meant it don't matter…”

 

Blue looked ahead to the hunter who was holding back the branch of a tree for him to pass without it snapping back to hit him in the face, and nodded in appreciation.

 

“It mattered to me, back then. Aisling was the only person I thought I could talk to.. we were so close. Anyway, it made me toughen up a bit, and that was that. No point crying about it now.”

 

When Merle had left Daryl, either to go to juvie, or later, to jail, or off on one of his jaunts, he had missed his older brother real bad. Merle was no angel, but he was his brother, and he was better than nothing. He'd just wanted someone to rub his shoulder and make soothing noises when he lay on his old tattered mattress after Will had beaten him, or after their Mom had died, but it hadn't happened, so he sympathized with Blue.

 

“Know what that's like, not bein' able to talk to the only person you think you can.”

 

Blue paused for a moment, unsure whether to ask his next question or not.

 

“Your brother, Merle?”

 

Daryl gave a quick nod “Wasn't there most of the time… 'specially when I could'a done with him.”

 

“Well, here's to shitty upbringings” Blue said, deadpan, and pulled a small silver hipflask from the pocket of his jacket. He took a gulp, then passed it to Daryl, who hesitated a moment before taking it from him. Raising it to his lips, Daryl drank down the warm heat of the Irish whiskey within, and passed it back to Blue.

 

“To fuckin' shitty parents.”

 

 

*.*

 

 

Merle stood in the Philips Arena in Atlanta that evening with his legs spread, pumping his fist in the air as the band on stage played. He shouted out the lyrics, punctuated with yells of “YEAH!” as the band went through his favorite songs.

 

Daryl grabbed Aisling's waist as he took another beer from Blue and nodded his head towards his brother, grinning “Think he's enjoyin' it?”

 

Aisling watched Heather and Merle turn to face each other, screaming out the words of what was obviously a favorite song of theirs to each other, and smiled, happy that her brother had suggested that they make the gig a group night of it.

 

While Blue hadn't wanted to step into his parents footsteps, he was interested in the entertainment industry and had decided to forge his own way ahead in it.

It would have been easy to follow his older brother into the lucrative family promotion business, but Blue wanted to make his own way in the world.

 

So, he came to be fulfilling a lowly spot in the band's retinue, but he was out there, on his own, doing it his own way… and he loved it.

 

*.*

 

 

Blue led the small group through a maze of narrow concrete passageways until they stood at a door marked with a sheet of paper printed with the band logo, and the stark warning 'LAMINATED PASSES ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT”.

 

“You… eh, you sure we can go in there?” Merle asked with uncharacteristic nervousness as he eyed the printed warming on the door.

 

“Trust me, Merle, you'll be fine,” Blue grinned as he pushed the door open and held it out for everyone to file through.

 

“Ash!”

A deep male voice rang out through the whitewashed room, and before Daryl knew what was happening the sixty-something year old lead singer of the band was grabbing his girlfriend and spinning her around while he kissed her cheeks.

 

“Aisling's godfather,” Blue leaned over to whisper to a stunned Daryl and Merle, as they watched the man they'd both seem a million times on MTV greet Daryl's girlfriend.

 

“Steve Mason's your girl's godfather?” Merle asked incredulously.

 

Daryl shrugged, watching the older man take selfies with Aisling on his phone, telling his entourage excitedly who she was. “I didn't fuckin' know, did I.”

 

*.*

 

 

Daryl sat quietly on a couch in the dressing room, drinking a beer as he watched a band member try to coax Merle's useless sausage fingers into the right positions to play the bass line to his favorite track, and shook his head.

 

“You haven't met Aisling's Daddy yet, have you kid?”

Steve Mason lowered his lanky, leather-clad body down onto the couch to sit beside Daryl.

 

“No sir, not yet,” Daryl mumbled, slightly uncomfortable talking to the man he'd seen fucking some groupie in an old sex tape Merle had made him look at a few years ago.

 

“Steve, please. Sir makes me feel even older than I am,” the man replied in his rasping cockney accent, “but it's Aisling I wanted to talk about. Seeing as how her daddy isn't here, I feel it's up to me to ask you what you intentions are towards my goddaughter?”

 

_Fuck. Last time I got a real good look at this guy he was wearin' a damn cock ring, nuts deep in some bleached blonde slut. An' now I gotta talk about my feelin's with him?_

 

“I, eh… I don't wanna hurt her, if that's what ya mean?” Daryl paused as he glanced up at Steve, to see him nod for Daryl to continue “I mean, I… eh, I love her. Wanna always be with her. Ain't gonna do nothin' to harm that.”

 

The elderly rocker reached out an arm and grasped Daryl firmly by the shoulders. “That's good enough for me, mate” he said, smiling, “I fucked up enough marriages in my time – my own, and other people's – before I found my current wife. She's the best fucking thing that's ever happened to me. You're lucky you've found your soul mate so early. Don't fuck it up, son.”

 

Steve slapped Daryl's shoulder as he stood up and adjusted his leather pants that sat low on his bony hips, and pointed his index finger at him as he stood before him “I mean it, mate, don't fuck it up.”

 


	47. Chapter 47

Oh my lord, has it really been a month?  
I'm so sorry. Lots going on, but I'm back, and raring to go with the continuing story of Aisling and Daryl.  
As usual, I don't own Daryl or Merle, but everything else is mine and is purely fictional.

 

*.*

“So, you and Larry the Cable Guy….?”

Aisling looked up from her pancakes and fixed Blue with an unimpressed stare as they finished up a late breakfast in the hotel across from the arena where her brother had stayed with the band after last night's gig.   
“Don't call him that, Blue…. that isn't cool. Don't you like Daryl?”

Blue shook his head apologetically, “Sorry… I was trying to be funny. I like Daryl, honestly, and it's as plain as your face-” he paused to smirk “-that you love him, and he loves you. But it's just… he's so different to all your other boyfriends. I guess I'm just curious.”

He pulled chunks of pancake off the stack on the plate before him with his fingers, and dipped them in syrup before stuffing them greedily into his mouth, as he watched Aisling stare off into space, thinking about what exactly it was that she loved about Daryl.

Aisling smiled and caught his eyes “That's just it. I've never been with anyone like Daryl...” she gazed out the window, not looking at anything in particular, just staring into the middle distance with a dreamy look on her face, like the streets of Atlanta were filled with be-ribboned baskets of puppies and kittens, and baby chicks…

“Daryl's everything I've ever wanted, and everything I never even knew I wanted. He's so kind, and so unbelievably gentle… but he can be rough and animalistic too. And he's shy… God, you wouldn't believe how shy he can be, Blue… and then, he's suddenly not shy at all, and he's all 'grrrrr' and manly and… sorry...” she flashed a bashful smile at her brother as he tried to hide his discomfort at basically hearing an in-depth analysis of the source of the sounds he'd overheard the previous morning   
“… I've gone all 'Daryl's so dreamy' on you. Heather tells me off for that.”

Blue smiled at his sister. There was a happiness and peace in her eyes that he'd never seen there before. 

“Are you going to marry him?” Blue asked, dipping the last of his bacon into what was left in the little pot of maple syrup on his plate.

Aisling snorted and pushed her plate away, her breakfast only half finished.   
“It's good manners for me to wait until I'm asked, Blue. And I don't think that will happen any time soon. I'm just happy being with him for now.”

Blue wiped his plate with his remaining scrap of pancake.  
“So,” he asked, shoveling the last of sweet, savory treat into his mouth as he watched his sister, gauging her face for a reaction, “if Daryl was to ask you to marry him, what would you say?”

Aisling shrugged and looked out the window at the heavy, dark clouds that crept stealthily across the wide Georgian sky towards them. “He isn't going to ask, so it isn't something I need to think about. I'd be happy to just live with him until we both drop dead of old age

Actually, Aisling had been giving the subject some thought lately, ever since the events at the Post Office.   
Daryl was the only man she had ever thought seriously – beyond a teenage 'oh, wouldn't it be nice to be married' whimsy that occasionally struck her with practically every boyfriend she'd ever had - about marrying. 

To stand up in front of God and their friends, and promise to be true to Daryl.  
To swear to stand by Daryl through good times, and bad.  
In sickness, and in health.  
All the days of her life.  
By Daryl's side.

But he he was so closed in, so reticent, that she acknowledged that the day he ever asked her to marry him would be the day hell froze over.

He was her rugged, woodsy, oil-streaked man, and there wasn't a day that went by that she didn't thank whatever higher power there might be up there, for bringing him into her life, but he was never going to be one for grand, romantic gestures.

The thousands of little things he did meant more to her than any bouquets of flowers, or surprise weekends away ever would though.

When they had gone shopping for bedlinen – something she knew that he would really rather not be doing at all, but he had volunteered to accompany her regardless - he had nodded impatiently at whatever she'd shown him, then dragged her behind a display of pillows to kiss her deeply, murmuring against her mouth that he didn't care what the bedding looked like, as long as he got to enjoy being with her in it

Every night, he always pulled her body close to his, knowing that she got cold easier than he did, and would tuck the covers around her so that there weren't any gaps where cold night air might possibly sneak in.

He brought her coffee in bed every morning, before he left for work, because he knew that she liked a cup to start her day when she read the news and caught up on emails on her iPad. 

She knew that he loved her, and all those little things he did – and more – made her so, so happy, but the idea that marriage might be beyond what he was comfortable with niggled her a little, deep inside, if she were honest.   
Half of her wanted him to drop to one knee and make her his officially, but the other half of her was more than happy with what she had, and didn't want to be ungrateful for how wonderful life with Daryl was. 

Why wish it away for something that might never happen?  
They could still be living together when she was in her eighties and he was one hundred, and she was happy for that.

 

Blue had a natural knack for reading people.   
He figured he got it from his Dad, who was an expert in gauging any situation, knowing exactly what the atmosphere was in a room and how everyone in that room fitted into the puzzle.  
Added to the fact that he could read Aisling like a fucking book, it was all very clear to him.

“If he asked you, you would say yes… but you don't think he will ask you, so you're on damage control… right?”

Aisling stared at him again as she finished up her coffee, but didn't say anything, so he continued “You've convinced yourself that he isn't going to ask to you marry him, because if he doesn't you'll be heartbroken, so you're building those 'I Really Don't Mind' defenses of yours up, right?”

Aisling pushed her plate away, leaned over to kiss her brother's cheek, and stood up.

“You're so full of shit, you know that, Blue?”

Her brother watched her pull on her coat and gather her purse before he sank back into his chair and smiled smugly “I'm right, I know I'm right.”

“Oh fuck off, Blue. I'll see you in New York.”

Blue watched his sister leave the hotel restaurant and smiled. He was so fucking right.

*.*

The dark clouds overhead gathered into a slate-blue slab which hung low over the trees as Aisling drove back home again from Atlanta, promising a hard, heavy downpour on the darkening earth.  
The weather forecast that she'd heard on the radio that morning as she had made herself a coffee, leaving Daryl snoring quietly in their bed, had warned about the rain to come, and it looked like they weren't lying. 

As if on cue, fat, heavy raindrops landed on the windshield of her car.

Aisling didn't mind though. She had always liked the rain, and was surprisingly upbeat for someone who had just had the stitches in their forehead removed, and had undergone her first session with one of the Trauma Therapists the police had recommended.   
She was tired, talked out, and her throat was raw from crying, but she was still brimming with a strong sense of achievement that came from taking the situation she had been dealt in hand and confronting it head on, not allowing it to beat her.

Following the curve of the drive around to the front of the house Aisling sighed when she saw Corinne's car there, and the woman in question perched nervously on the steps up to her front door, trying to keep dry underneath the porch.   
Honestly, she would rather not have to deal with the woman sitting on her doorstep, but she had told the therapist about the new approach to life that she was trying to hold on to. How she'd lain on the floor of the post office and swore to herself that life was too short.  
What Corinne had done was done out of love and loyalty for her friend, and Aisling couldn't really fault that. Sure, she was hurt that Corinne had believed that she'd be capable of being so cruel to Daryl, but – being realistic – they'd only known each other a little while, so how could she reasonably know what Aisling was really like?  
It was probably time to give Corinne another chance.

Clutching the two – no doubt, eye-wateringly expensive – bottles of wine that her Godfather had insisted Blue give her with a note that read 'for you and that Daryl bloke', she approached the steps where the woman sat.  
It was possible that this could either turn out to be either a full-blown screaming match, or another round of listening to what Corinne thought Aisling had done wrong, but from the nervous smile Corinne gave her, and the tupperware box of what looked like some kind of baked goods, she hoped that it would be an opportunity to build a bridge.

“How's the shoulder?” Corinne asked, her voice betraying her nerves as she stood up.  
Aisling shrugged, noticing how dull and manageable the ache in her shoulder was now, “Not so bad, really. It just feels like a bad bruise.”

Corinne watched her for a moment, before she held out the plastic container she was holding towards Aisling, with a small, nervous smile on her lips “I brought a peace offering… hoped maybe we could talk?”

Aisling nodded, and walked up to the house, leaving Corinne to follow her. After opening the front door she kicked her converse sneakers off onto the hallway floor, and padded softly into the kitchen in her socks.

“Take a seat,” she gestured to the kitchen table as she dug around in the drawer for a bottle opener, “I'm having wine. You want some, or a coffee or something?”

“A glass of water would be fine, thanks.”

Aisling poured herself a large glass of wine, got a glass of water for Corinne, and sat down opposite her at the kitchen table. Nodding towards the plastic container that lay on the table she asked 'What's in there?” Corinne was a great cook, and Aisling was feeling pretty hungry, having had nothing to eat since her and Blue's breakfast, when she hadn't even eaten that much after he had started quizzing her about Daryl. 

Aisling's stomach refused to allow her to remain aloof if there was food on the go.

Corinne bit back a smile, and pushed the container towards her “I remembered you saying that you loved the marionberry pie you used to get at your grandparents in Oregon. Well, I drove all over trying to find them, but I couldn't get enough for a pie, so I made you some oatmeal marionberry bars instead… I hope they go some way to let you know how sorry I am.”

Nodding slowly, Aisling opened the container and her mouth began to water at the sight and smell of the sugary, sweet crumbly bars within.   
“Trying to get back into my good books via my stomach, eh?” she asked Corinne, raising an eyebrow and quirking her lips in a small smile as she took a bar in her hand and sank her teeth into it “… good plan...” she mumbled around a mouthful of the sugary treat, and moaned quietly as the childhood memory of the tart berry flooded over her taste buds.

Corinne took a bar from the container when Aisling pushed it towards her, and paused a moment before saying what had been troubling her for days now.   
“Aisling, I really am so sorry for everything I said… for not letting you give your side of the story, and for just automatically believing that you'd hurt Daryl like that. Do you think you'll ever forgive me?”

Aisling sighed as she swallowed the rest of the bar, and nodded “You're forgiven. Not forgotten, yet, but forgiven.”

Leaping up from her seat Corinne reached out to Aisling and pulled her up into a tight hug, pulling her into an embrace as she stayed in her chair.   
“I felt so bad, honestly. I was so caught up in how hurt Daryl was feeling that all logic just flew out the window. I really should have known that you wouldn't have done that… I should have stopped to think. I'm so sorry.”

Any determination to stay stoic and bristly dissolved as her friend hugged her tightly. Any remaining anger and resentfulness disappeared as Corinne grasped her tightly and sobbed “I'm sorry, Aisling.”

“Hey,” Aisling pulled back and pushed Corinne's hair from her face where it had stuck to her tears “No tears, come on. I can't have you dying from dehydration before you've made more treats for me, now can I? I said not forgotten, but I reckon another few of these bad boys and I'll be, like, 'argument, what argument?!', okay?”

Corinne nodded, and grabbed Aisling's hands in her own.   
“Here's to a new start, yeah?”

 

*.*

 

When Daryl pushed the front door open after work his nose met the welcoming smell of something spicy and savory wafting through from the kitchen. He closed the door and locked out the damp, chilly air outside, kicked Aisling's discarded Converse out of the way before he fell over them, and followed the delicious scent in through the living room to the kitchen, where Aisling leaned over the counter top looking at her iPad. She was wearing jeans and a striped top which had slipped over one shoulder, giving him an enticing patch of pale skin to swipe his tongue along as he wrapped his arms around her waist, surprising her so much that she let out a startled squeak.

“How'd ya get on today, at the therapist?” he asked between hot little sucks on her neck and shoulder. He had offered to take the day off work to go with her, but Aisling had decided that it was something she needed to do on her own, without the crutch that was Daryl to lean on.   
If she was to get stronger, she needed to pull on her big-girl-panties and face things head on.

She twisted around in his arms to face him, smiling up at those blue eyes of his. “It was good. It helped, I think.” 

Aisling stretched up on tip-toes to kiss Daryl's warm, soft mouth, and then leaned her head against his chest while he ran his hands up and down her back. “Yeah? Wanna tell me 'bout it?”

She nodded, and reached for the bottle of wine, got another glass from the cupboard and led them to the couch, where she nestled into his body and told him all about the session she'd had with the therapist in Atlanta.

“I know I can talk to you, and you're an amazing listener” she sighed “but talking to that woman was like… I don't know, like… when I walked out even my bones my felt lighter. Does that make sense?”

Daryl nodded, and pushed back her hair to kiss the skin at her temple.   
Ever since he was a little boy he'd felt the same feeling of release from the forest.   
Escaping the dull, miserable gloom of life at home was something Daryl had grown to rely on as he grew up. Just being surrounded by the dappled light and the verdant green of the trees, ferns and mosses there had always somewhat lightened the weights of the guilt, worthlessness and self loathing that had always hung heavily around his young shoulders.   
That must have been similar to what Aisling had felt speaking to the therapist.

He wondered, again, if speaking to someone when he was younger would have changed him. If Merle had spoken about what happened in their shitty little trailer, would both their lives have been different?  
Would they have gone into foster care?   
Would they have been together?  
Would they have had a better chance in life?

It was too late, he figured, to go down that route now. He had battled his demons in his own way, and now he was with Aisling those demons were either dead, or lay pretty badly wounded, and that was good enough for him.   
Aisling had come to his rescue, and cheered him on as he fought against his past, and God, he loved her even more for it

“It was hard though,” she sighed softly and rubbed her cheek against the soft cotton of his plaid shirt “I cried so much I could have fucking canoed my way out of her office, and I feel like I could sleep for a week, but it was worth it.”

 

*.*

 

Daryl left Aisling to clear away the dishes after the surprisingly delicious lamb stew – or tagine, as Aisling had called it – and disappeared upstairs. 

He couldn't do much for her in the way of material goods, but he could at least try to do his best to make her happy  
Lighting two of the stupidly expensive candles she'd bought at some fancy shop in Atlanta when they'd gone to look for sofas, he placed them on the rim of the bath, and rummaged around in the basket of toiletries she kept nearby, knowing that she'd bought some kind of bath shit there at the same time. He recognized the oval logo on the glass bottle, and – unsure how much to add to the bath – settled for a generous capful of oil, which he poured into the hot water filling the bath.   
The smell of cedar and some kind of flowers quickly filled the steamy bathroom, and even though Daryl was never one for flowers, the smell relaxed him all the same.

As the bath filled, Daryl went and got the wireless speaker from their bedroom and set it on the toilet seat. It took a minute or two of poking about on his phone, but eventually he found the Explosions In The Sky album that Aisling liked to listen to when she was chilling out, just wanting background noise, and bounced it out to fill the bathroom with the mini-symphony.

 

“Ash,” he opened the bathroom door and yelled out into the house “Come up!”  
He heard he sound of the dishwasher switching on, and then, the light pad of Aisling's feet as she made her way through the house, and up the stairs, to the bathroom.

 

She stood in the doorway for a moment, her big green eyes taking in the soft light of the candles illuminating the shimmer of the warm water across the tiles on the bathroom wall, and Daryl, standing awkwardly by the toilet chewing his lip as he scanned her face for a reaction.

“Thought ya might like a bit of relaxin'” he offered, and pointed nervously towards the bath with a finger as he blushed so deeply Aisling was able to make out the crimson flush of his cheeks and ears, even in the candlelight. 

“Oh, this is perfect,” she whispered, and warmed Daryl's heart with the sight of her full lips pulled up into a grateful smile.  
He just stood there, unsure what to do but unable to tear his eyes away, as she undressed, tossing her clothes to the corner of the room until she stood there in all her beautiful, naked glory. Then, she stepped carefully into the warm, scented water, and sank down slowly until just her head was visible above the rim of the bath.

She stretched her arms out to drape over the edge of the tub and gave a little moan of pleasure as the water soothed her limbs, then fixed her eyes on Daryl where he still stood by the toilet.

“Aren't you going to join me?”

They hadn't done this before. They'd showered together lots, and that had almost always ended up with him claiming her soft, warm body as the stream of water ran over them. 

Baths were different though.   
The only real memory Daryl had of his Mom was on Saturday nights when he was real young. After Merle was done in the cracked, yellowing tub in the trailer, it was Daryl's turn. He'd sit in the tepid, scummy water, marinading in Merle's second-hand filth, and his Mom would wash his hair.   
Hell, she was probably drunk as shit, but the feel of her fingers working shampoo into his scalp was the closest he'd ever got to motherly love, and the memory had hung around in his brain as something that was important. It meant something.   
Hell, it meant everything.

So, it was with trembling fingers that Daryl slowly rid himself of his clothes until he stood there, completely naked in the candlelight.   
Aisling watched him from the bath as he bit as his lip a little. Her eyes took in the broad expanse of his shoulders, the tight planes of his stomach spreading down to the v of his abdominal muscles… down to where his penis hung heavily between his legs, soft and unaroused.

She wasn't sure what exactly he was thinking, but she sensed that it wasn't anything sexy, and that was okay.

From the way he bit at his lip, and the way his body wasn't reacting to her laying wet and naked before him, Aisling thought that maybe some memory from his past was playing out in his mind, and she was happy for him to take what he needed from this moment.   
She didn't need to have sex.   
She needed for Daryl to be happy.  
He motioned for Aisling to scoot forward in the water and climbed into the scented warmth to settle behind her, pulling her body back to lean against his broad chest.

They lay there silently for a while, just listening the music, until Daryl reached for the bottle of shampoo he had rested on the side and began to lather up Aisling's long dark hair. His fingers massaged her scalp, before he pulled the shower head from it's cradle and began to rinse her hair out, gently weaving his fingers through Aisling's long, dark wet strands until all trace of the shampoo was gone.  
Who'd have thought, a year ago, that Daryl Dixon would sit in a bathtub, tenderly washing his lover's hair?

Carefully, he massaged some of Aisling's conditioner into her hair, and then leaned forward to gently kiss her shoulder, before he carefully tucked her hair over her shoulder and pulled her back to lean against his chest.

“I'm going to book our flights for New York tomorrow. For the exhibition. Is that okay?”

Daryl was quiet for a moment, then asked “Can't we drive? Ain't never been on a plane before.”

“We could, I guess, but flying's a lot quicker. I thought I could show you around the city, and we'd have so much more time, but if you'd rather drive that works for me.”

Daryl was quiet for a moment as he thought things through, then gently kissed Aisling's shoulder and lifted the shower attachment to rinse her hair again. 

“Ain't got a passport.”

Aisling shrugged “Your driver's license should do.”

She leaned her head back, allowing Daryl to rinse her hair completely with his gentle fingers and the warm stream of water from the shower, and sighed contentedly.

“I'll get the cash out tomorrow. That work for ya?”

Aisling twisted her head around and shook her head “No. I've a bazillion points on my airline cards. The flights will be free, Daryl.”

She watched Daryl huff and put the shower head back into it's cradle with a little more force than she would have liked.

“Ain't no charity case, Ash. Can pay for m'self!” he said quietly, his voice low.

Aisling twisted her body around to face him and pulled his face into her hands.   
“I told you, Daryl, it's free. I fly so much I have more points than I could ever spend, unless we flew to the moon and back a couple of times a year. Please, don't make it weird.”

She was right. Why was he fighting this? What good would male posturing do?  
It wasn't as though she was paying for the flights from her own pocket, and she obviously wanted to do this, so what would either of them benefit from his fighting her over it?

“Okay,” he grumbled, and pressed his mouth to the damp nape of her neck as he pulled her hair to the side, “book the flights.”

 

“Your turn,” Aisling whispered and pulled Daryl's arm so that he slid forward, as she slipped back in the tub, and their positions were reversed.

“Do you think Merle would like to come to New York?” Aisling asked, quietly, as her fingertips massaged Daryl's scalp, rubbing her clove shampoo into his dark locks.

“Mmmmnnn,” was all that Daryl could summon up in reply, and leaned his head further back towards Aisling's fingers as they ran through his hair.  
To be honest, the thought of his asshole brother accompanying them to New York irritated him, but he didn't have the strength or willpower to argue as Aisling's fingers worked over his scalp, so he didn't argue and just relaxed back to enjoy this moment.

This moment, with the woman he loved.  
In their tub.  
In their house.  
Her long, smooth legs stretched out either side of him, cradling his body between them.

Fuck Merle and his plans.  
Daryl was enjoying this moment too much to give him more than a passing thought.


	48. Chapter 48

 

 

“ _Ladies and gentlemen, at this time we would like to begin boarding our flight 1942 service to Newark. If you are seated in zone 1 you are welcome to board.”_

 

Daryl fidgeted with the straps of his backpack as he walked along the jet bridge beside Aisling, only half-hearing her tell him something about taxi cabs and traffic. She was smiling happily up at him, her face bright and relaxed, her green eyes shining.

 

_Ain't gonna puke… ain't gonna puke..._

_Fuck, pull yourself together. Millions of people fly all over the place every day, ain't nothing to be a pussy about._

 

As Daryl stepped onto the plane behind Aisling, and the smiling steward escorted them to seats 1C and 1D at the front of the plane, Daryl found himself breathing a lot faster than he usually would.

The floor beneath his feet felt hollow, like he could just step down hard and go right fucking through it. How the hell was this tin fucking can going to hold together up in the air?

And they were sitting right at the front.

Daryl was no aviation expert, but as far as he knew planes weren't in the habit of reversing down into the ground when they crashed.

If they went down, it was more than likely that they'd go nose first, and there was no way he was getting out of that situation.

He go to his death concertinaed in the wreckage, like a bug between the palms of someone's hands.

 

While Aisling got everything she'd need out of her bag, Daryl thrust his ratty old backpack at the steward who offered to stow their things in the overhead locker and grumbled a 'thanks'. Settling back into his seat, he tried to figure out the buckle there, before he eventually managed to fasten it and had to suck all his breath in to get it to fit.

 

_Fuck, must be gettin' fat, or this airline usually flies fuckin' skeletons._

 

 

“You can loosen it,” Aisling whispered in his ear as he tried hard not to turn purple from holding his breath, “here, let me...”

She reached out to loosen the buckle, but her hands were more or less swatted away by a handsome young male steward who smiled right into Daryl's face as he pulled the belt loose.

“There was a kid in this seat on the inbound flight, Mr Dixon, that's why it's pulled so small. There we go...” he patted Daryl's stomach gently, a little too familiarly for Daryl's comfort “perfect.”

 

As he wandered off to help someone else, Daryl glared across as Aisling giggled at his red face, the heat spreading down his neck and up to his ears.

 

“Shut up,” he grumbled, and nudged her shoulder with his.

 

He hadn't been worried about flying… not that much, anyway. He was a little nervous, but was thinking along the lines of a fast motorcycle ride, and how invigorating that was. This would be similar, but it would take place around 35,000 fucking feet above the ground… and he would have no control over it whatsoever.

 

He'd been doing okay, giving himself little pep-talks about airline safety, and the unlikelihood of plummeting to earth screaming in a fireball, until Merle rang.

 

“ _Glad me an' Heather's drivin' up, lil' brother. Don't trust them fuckin' airlines, coverin' shit up, getting' hijacked by ISIS an' all other kinds of fuckin' fruitcakes, blown planes up an' shit. Ain't nobody gonna find ol' Merle's smokin' carcass strapped in a seat, hangin' from a tree in fuckin' Virginia or nowhere with a big wet patch where I pissed my damn pants on the way down. No siree_

 

And that hadn't helped.

 _At all_.

 

Daryl felt every slight bounce of the aircraft, each low thud of the other passengers feet as the plane filled and everyone got settled into their seats. Each slam of the overhead lockers made him jump slightly, and when eventually the plane began to slowly reverse out of it's dock his hands gripped the armrests tightly.

 

He tried to focus on Aisling as she chatted with the same young air steward who had shown them to their seats when he stopped by their seat to tell her that he loved Wild Geese, and say that he'd heard about her art show in New York. Daryl heard her tell the steward to come along to the opening if he was still in the city, and watched as both their concerned gazes fixed on him.

 

“Are you okay, Daryl?” Aisling whispered, close to his ear, as the plane taxied to the runway and took it's place in the stack ready for take off.

 

Unable to form words in his mouth, which was dryer than he'd ever felt it, Daryl nodded, then realized he wasn't fooling anyone and shook his head quickly.

 

Aisling's fingers curled around his, and her warm lips pressed against his ear “It's okay. Take a deep breath in, then blow it out, like you're blowing up a balloon.”

 

Daryl held his breath in, like it was a valuable resource that he couldn't let go.

 

“C'mon, Daryl. Deep breath in… blow it out.”

 

He glanced at her eyes, full of concern, and if he wasn't so fucking panic stricken he would have been embarrassed at his girlfriend having to talk him down from the little episode he was currently in the middle of.

 

Nervously, he took a deep, trembling breath, then slowly blew it out between pursed lips. He repeated the action, and, hell, if he wasn't already feeling a little bit calmer.

 

“You'll like it when we get up there, I promise.” Aisling whispered gently, “There's nothing like looking down at the earth through clouds to make the wonder take over the fear.”

 

She rubbed his knuckles with her hand as the plane taxied out onto the runway and the engines fired up.

“Stay with me Daryl, just breath… deep in… blow out.”

 

Daryl nodded, afraid to look at her because he already felt like some kind of freak who had been dropped into the present time from the eighteenth century, but tried to keep up the breathing pattern she had recommended.

 

Deep in… blow out… deep in… blow out… deep in… they were racing along the runway now, bumping along, and it seemed like everything was rattling, and he could hear the glassware in the trolleys clinking… deep in… fuck, what was that bump?… blow out… the plane took on a noticeable upward tilt as as the bumping suddenly stopped they weren't on the ground anymore.

 

“Daryl?” he heard Aisling's voice beside his ear, and felt her hand snake around to his jaw, twisting his head to face her. Her soft, full lips pressed against his as she curled her other hand up to cup the nape of his neck.

 

_Fuck. Love her even more for this._

_Behavin' like a damn child, and she's all soft mouth an' reassurance._

 

 

The feel of her lips against his was instantly calming, but Daryl's body and mind were still at odds with each other.

He was terrified, but aroused. In a state of panic, but also relaxing into the kiss his lover's lips pressed against his, wanting to get closer to her.

 

“It's okay,” she murmured into his mouth, and moved her hands to settle on his broad shoulders, where they gently kneaded the tense muscles she found there.

 

“Look...”

She moved her lips from his, and gestured to the window beside her, where the cloudy white of an overcast Georgia morning had given way to a vivid blue, above a carpet of white, fluffy clouds.

 

Cabin crew were already moving around, getting the drinks and snack trolleys out.

 

“If there was any problem at all, they wouldn't get those out,” she whispered soothingly into his ear “Everything is absolutely fine, Daryl.”

 

Noticing how Daryl was suddenly transfixed by the little view he could see from the window by her shoulder, she asked “would you like to swap seats? So you can see?”

 

Daryl nodded, they unbuckled, and he slid across to take her seat.

As he stood up to switch seats the thought crossed his mind that unbuckling his belt might send the plane into a tail spin, and he froze, but the feel of Aisling's little hand gently squeezing his thigh reassuringly brought him back to reality.

 

She was his angel all through the flight.

When the steward who had talked about Wild Geese walked past, she had grabbed him, and with wide eyes and a big smile had asked if it would be 'an awful trouble' to get two Woodfords on ice, super quickly. When he'd said “sure thing, Miss O'Brien”, she'd switched her best 'you're so awesome' smile on, and thanked him profusely.

 

This was why she was popular, and he wasn't, Daryl mused.

Aisling knew how to work people.

 

Then their drinks had arrived, with some peanuts, pretzels, and chips, and Daryl gradually felt his nerves minimize with each mouthful of the cold bourbon that he gulped back.

 

Halfway, and two more Woodfords into the flight, Daryl was wondering what in the hell he had been so worried about.

 

Looking down on the clouds was _sooo_ relaxing.

Seeing the earth from this vantage point, with the squares of fields, the outlines of forests, the arteries of road networks spreading beneath them felt like the time he'd accidentally taken two of Merle's E's thinking they were painkillers.

 

He was unimportant in the grand scheme of things that this planet they inhabited had in store, and that was _fine_. He was happy to just watch, and marvel at the magnificence of it all.

 

Aisling squeezed his hand where they lay entwined on the arm rest and he allowed himself to look across at her, heart and stomach melting at the look of love and concern in her eyes.

 

“This's nice” he whispered, slurring slightly as his mouth caught up with his brain and he realized that drinks on a plane seemed to work faster than drinks on the ground.

 

“You're nice,” he continued, leaning in to capture those full, pink lips of hers in a kiss.

 

“Can we fly lots? Wanna do it again real soon,” he mumbled against her mouth, and snaked his tongue between her teeth to twirl around hers.

 

 

*.*

 

 

 

“Why'd ya get me so fuckin' tanked, Ash? Feel like shit now.” Daryl grumbled, face down on the bed of their hotel room.

 

Aisling smirked at her poor, hungover hunter, moaning quietly to himself as he tried to curl into himself.

 

“I didn't stick a funnel in your mouth and pour the alcohol down your throat, mister. Here, take this… and this.”

She held out a bottle of water, cold from the mini bar, and pressed it into his hand.

 

Daryl looked up to see her also holding out a tiny bottle of bourbon from the mini bar. “The hair of the dog that bit you. You'll feel better afterwards.”

 

The squinty-eyed glare he gave her softened slightly when he saw that she also held a little tub of Pringles, a pair of sunglasses and a small brown bottle with a rubber nipple on top.

 

“Whass' all this?” he asked, nodding his head towards her hands as he took the bourbon and knocked it back.

 

Leaning over, she put the sunglasses on his face, tilted his head towards the window where the afternoon sun shone through, and propped the tub of Pringles by his hand.

Then, she gently relieved him of his jacket and shirt, before she straddled his arse and used the dropper on the brown bottle to release a couple of drops of musky oil onto his back.

The oil was in the welcome pack the hotel had provided, and Aisling thought that Daryl could do with a little pampering after his mini-freakout on the plane.

 

As Aisling's fingers spread out across the skin of his back, pressing gently, softly smoothing, she whispered “Thank you for coming her with me. I'm nervous as hell. Having you here is good.”

 

Daryl felt like shit when she said that.

Here she was, realizing her dream of having an exhibition of her work, and she was nervous. She needed someone to lean on, to support her, and he couldn't even get it together to stay sober for their flight. Hell, he'd fallen asleep as soon as they got in the car and had only woken when she'd gently shook him awake at the hotel, and now she was helping him with his hangover and massaging his fucking back.

 

_Great boyfriending, Dixon._

 

“No. Uh-uh, stop that,” Daryl grunted, and twisted around so that he could slip out from underneath Aisling's body.

She stared at him like he'd gone mad, hands poised in mid-air from where she had been kneading the tension from his flesh.

 

“Been pampered enough.” he continued, “S'real nice n'all, but this trip ain't about me, so c'mon.”

 

He held out a hand to her while his other worked at the buttons on his shirt.

 

Aisling took Daryl's hand and allowed herself to be raised up from the bed, until she was standing beside him. “What? Where are we going?”

 

“Gonna take a walk, see some o'the 'Big Apple', then I'm takin' you for dinner,” Daryl said matter-of-factly, nodding his head in a full stop as he finished.

 

*.*

 

Aisling leaned into Daryl as they walked along the city streets, her arm linked through his. As they passed stores, and she told him how beautiful they would all look in a few weeks when they were decorated for Christmas, all Daryl could think was how nothing could be more beautiful than his girlfriend's big, green, shining eyes looking up at him.

 

“Hey,” he whispered, as he slowed to a stop in front of some big fancy store.

 

His hands ran up her arms to her shoulders, then one continued on to the nape of her neck, his fingers curling through her hair.

 

“Ya know I love ya, right?” he rasped, staring down at those eyes of hers.

 

Aisling nodded, and swallowed. “I know.”

 

Daryl lowered his face to gently press his mouth to Aisling's.

 

“Ain't never had nothin' like this before,” he murmured against her lips, his hot breath ghosting out into the chill evening air “like you, like what we got. Don't tell ya often enough, but you an' me… it means the world to me.”

 

He kissed her, as softly as he could, then gathered her into his arms and held her there in an embrace that he hoped conveyed at least some of the love he was feeling.

 

They stood there on the busy sidewalk, arms wrapped around each other, as the crowds passed them by, in their own little island.

 

*.*

 

 

“This is the gallery where the exhibition is at,” Aisling said, pulling Daryl forward by his hand as she went to the door and peered through the glass. There were her pictures, on the wall, and Sam stood in the middle of the room gesturing towards the far wall as he spoke to a man and woman who went off to readjust something that Aisling couldn't see.

 

She knocked at the glass with her knuckles, causing Sam to spin around. His face broke into a huge smile when he saw his friend there, and sprinted over to the door to allow her in.

 

“Ash! I didn't think I'd see you before tomorrow!”

 

Aisling smiled, and ran her hands up Sam's arms so that she could squeeze his shoulders.

 

“We were passing.”

 

Sam glanced over his shoulder at the awkward looking man who was staring at his feet.

 

“Is this Daryl?”

 

Daryl looked up, and nodded, shyly. “Sam?” he asked, hoping he got the name right.

 

He expected the tall, dark haired man to maybe nod a hello, or possibly shake his hand. He didn't expect two long, muscular arms to wrap around him and pull him into a tight hug.

 

“So good to meet you, mate. She's told me so much about you.”

 

After their hellos, Sam showed Daryl and Aisling around the exhibition space, finishing up at Aisling's work.

 

There, on the wall, were five of Aisling's photographs, and pride of place was Merle with his dick hanging out from the fly of his jeans.

 

Aisling let loose a little squeal, and leaped into Sam's arms.

“They look amazing! I can't believe this is happening!” she cried as she peppered Sam's cheeks with kisses.

 

“It's about fucking time, isn't it?” Sam grinned, and hugged his friend close. He had supported her all these years, cheerleading her work, and now her dream was finally being realized and he was thrilled to play a part in that.

 

He gestured to Daryl, beckoning him over to join in the hug, “Our girl's finally getting the recognition she deserves, Daryl.”

 

Biting his lip, Daryl stepped forward into the embrace and snaked his arms around both Sam and Aisling.

This guy had made her happy, and that made Daryl happy, and damn, if he couldn't hug that man for what he'd done, then he was one sad sonofabitch.

 

*.*

 

 

“Do you think anyone's going to come? I mean, I know people will come, but will lots of people come? And will anyone come to see my stuff? Will they like it?”

 

Aisling paused for breath and stared at Daryl, waiting for his answers as they sat in the burger restaurant nearby.

 

Daryl chewed his elk burger, complete with cheese he couldn't pronounce and some fancy-ass relish that he sure as hell had never heard of before, but was fucking gorgeous, and nodded.

 

“People will come,” he mumbled around his food “an' they'll fuckin' love your stuff, Ash.”

 

Aisling looked down at her own burger, untouched on the plate, and sighed “What if they think it's shit? What if they hate it?”

 

Daryl sucked his fingers clean and reached out to take her hands in his across the table.

 

“I ain't no art critic, but I think your pictures are great, right? An' if a know-nothin' asshole like me thinks they're great, then people who know shit are gonna think they're great too.”

 

Aisling allowed a bashful smile to spread across her face.

Daryl was really the only opinion who mattered to her.

Yes, if everyone who came to the exhibition hated her work, it would sting, but that Daryl liked it meant everything.

 

“I love you, Daryl Dixon.”

 

 

“Love ya' too, Aisling O'Brien. Now eat up, an' lets get back to the hotel 'cause I got real dirty an' sweaty plans for ya'.”


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, Hi!
> 
> This chapter had real trouble finding it's way from my head to the page. I kept starting it, coming back to it, then staring at it for ages with no joy… but in the end I split it and now I'm pretty much happy with , so here it is.
> 
> Unfortunately, it means that this chapter is basically just smut.  
> I think the problem was that I was trying to fit too much of what I wanted to say into one chapter. When I decided to split the chapter in two, it became much easier to write.

 

Aisling hardly slept a wink in the enormous hotel bed that night, as the usually comforting weight of Daryl's arm lay heavily around her waist, the rough pads of his fingertips rubbing across her skin as he shifted slightly in his sleep.

She couldn't remember ever feeling quite as nervous as she did now.

Sure, she was often anxious waiting to see how her work would be received in a newspaper review of a play, film, or television show, but in those instances she was always part of an ensemble of actors, writers, directors, co-stars and a myriad of editing and production staff that she could almost hide amongst.

But her photography was _her_.

She could take off her clothes on camera a hundred times and never feel as exposed as she did now, with her art… her _passion_ … the only thing about to be held up to public scrutiny.

Daryl's warm body pressed against her back was a comfort in the hours she lay awake, fretting, tossing horrible scenarios around in her head where she was ridiculed, and dismissed as a talentless imposter.

His strong arms wrapped around her served as an anchor against the flights of fancy which threatened to send her spiraling off into an anxious meltdown.

Of course this exhibition mattered to her, so very much, but the man whose warm, sleeping breath stirred the hair at the nape of her neck was, without a doubt, the most important thing in her heart.  
As far as Aisling was concerned, he always would be.

He was her strong protector, her honest and loyal confidante, her truest best friend, and her gentle, caring, passionate lover.

With Daryl at her side, Aisling could could deal with whatever life threw at her.

_My Daryl makes everything better. I need my Daryl._

As dawn's sleepy fingers crept into their hotel bedroom high above the Chelsea streets, the sounds of the city waking up below them – as much as 'The City That Never Sleeps' ever could _wake up_ \- filtered up into the room.

Garbage trucks beeped their reversal into the bays where the industrial sized dumpsters lay at the rear of the hotel – bouncing up off the buildings from way below them – and the early morning traffic splashed through the puddles left over from the heavy rain that had been Aisling's comforting soundtrack through her sleepless hours.

Aisling twisted around to face the man behind her, and calmed her nerves by watching him sleep.

Daryl looked so peaceful.

His lips were slightly parted as even breaths puffed gently out between them, his long eyelashes resting on the slightly puffy skin underneath his eyes.

_He always looks so tired._

_The big daft eejit is always looking after me, getting me all distracted with his love, and his kisses, and the way he does that thing when he's all hot and horny, and he grabs me and … anyway, he's always looking out for me. I need to look out for him more._

_Need to treat him as well as he treats me._

_He's my Daryl._

She leaned forward and pressed her lips softly to his, slowly, again and again, gently sucking the sleep from him.

Aisling wanted, no, _needed_ , Daryl to be awake with her right now.

Yes, it would be nice to share the memory of seeing in the light of a Chelsea dawn together, but if truth be told Aisling was just more than a little eager for some Daryl Loving right now, after spending what felt like only minutes, but could also have been hours, looking at his beautiful face so peaceful next to hers.

His dark hair stuck up every which way against the soft white cotton encasing the pillows, and the right side of his face which had been pressed into the pillow was seamed with the folds and creases of the fabric.

She kissed those soft lips, and pressed her naked body into his, until those blue eyes opened, and his face – soft, warm and rumpled from sleep – broke into the sweetest, sleepiest smile she'd ever seen that face blossom into.

Aisling's heart just about burst at the sight, and a barely awake Daryl was rewarded with what he thought might have been the sexiest sight ever, when Aisling – all bed tousled – bit her lip in a shy smile and giggled with those big green eyes fixed on him.

To Aisling, the sight of a Just Woken Daryl would always be the most adorable thing ever.

Her big, strong hunter, all rumpled and warm from sleep, with his ear poking through his hair, just begging to be nipped at with her lips, made her lady parts fizz and her heart melt.

She made the curve of his ear her first port of call as her lips began a slow, meandering journey down Daryl's warm body.

When her mouth got close enough, Daryl leaned forward and captured her lips with his.

His tongue licked between her open lips, and they got lost in their kisses for a while.

Lost in swollen lips, and hot mouths.

Remembering the delicious journey she was intent on continuing down the muscular body below her on the bed, she sucked Daryl's lower lip out with her lips and let it go with a quiet popping sound, then smiled at him from under hooded lids, and licked her lips.

Daryl's lips chased after hers, and he hissed quietly as she pulled away from his mouth to slide her tongue on a renewed expedition toward the heat of his groin.

She smiled as Daryl's hands began to paw at her, greedily, with sleepy enthusiasm. The thick fingers of one hand gripped one of her buttocks and squeezed, while his other hand connected with whatever soft, smooth flesh it happened to land on as he mouthed at the smooth skin of her throat.

She kissed those strong, broad shoulders, then moved down his chest, pausing to swipe her tongue across the nipple below his grandaddy's name, earning a low moan from Daryl's lips as the tiny little bundle of nerves hardened under her tongue.

From the first time her lips had touched his body, only a few months ago, Aisling was addicted to the feel and taste of Daryl's skin, and couldn't imagine a time when she wouldn't be.

This rough, bristly, yet incredibly soft and gentle backwoods man was the sun to her moon, the day to her night.

Down she licked, sucked, and kissed, to his belly button.

Daryl raised his head up just in time to see her little pink tongue swirl into that indented knot of flesh, then slip down to his lower belly – across the patch of soft, sparse hair on the little paunch of fleshy softness there that he was begrudgingly putting down to age, seeing as how no amount of cutting out beer, watching what he ate, or sit-ups he attempted while waiting for the coffee to brew in the mornings seemed to help it shrink.

Daryl hated it because he saw it as a sign of weakness and age – _gettin' like Daddy was. Gonna wind up jus' some fat bastard in a chair, all gut an' jowels_.

But Aisling loved that soft little pillow on his abdomen. It was Daryl, and it felt nice against her cheek and nose as she nuzzled into it, so she took her time licking, kissing, and tracing her fingers along the soft flesh.

When her tongue continued downwards in a trail of little kitten-soft licks Daryl inhaled a quiet gasp, making Aisling giggle against the warmth of his skin, her nose blowing out little puffs of air which tickled his pubic hair. That made Daryl hiss in a sharp intake of breath, and twine his thick fingers into her hair as his head lolled back onto the pillows again.

Aisling sighed happily as her nose trailed through the dense, springy curls at the base of his erection, inhaling the warm muskiness there that was pure, concentrated Daryl.

She couldn't remember ever being with a man whose smell drove her crazy. It was as if Daryl oozed pheromones that had been created in the stars solely for her.

The feel of her soft fingers cupping his heavy balls, as the tip of that little pink tongue connected teasingly with the tip of his rapidly hardening cock, stole his breath away.

She moved her mouth along him, kissing the soft skin there all gentle... real slow.

When Daryl had first met Aisling he had fantasized about her mouth on him _there_ , but he had quickly learned that those fantasies had _nothing_ on the mind-blowing reality.

She had told him once that she could tie a cherry stalk in a knot with her tongue, and while he'd never had the chance to see that talent in action, he firmly believed her.

_Fuck!_

_Ain't never gonna get tired of feelin' her mouth on my dick._

_My girl's got fuckin' skills._

Another loud moan escaped him as her tongue flicked tiny, tingling little licks down along the underside of his cock, and back up to the swollen head which glistened with precum and spit.

The rush of sensation which surged through Daryl made him gasp out "Suck me, Ash… fuck!"

Daryl's sex noises ranked right up there in the Top 10 things Aisling could never, ever now get enough of. Sometimes they were feral growls, or wild roars, but other times they were needy little whimpers.

They were all the most erotic sounds she'd ever heard.

His fingers tightened in her hair when she moved to take the tip of him in her mouth, and she smiled up at him, her full lips stretching around his impressive girth.

Aisling hummed approvingly around his cock at his words, sending paralyzing electric shocks straight from Daryl's dick through to his central nervous system, rendering him incapable of thinking much beyond the sensations her mouth ignited in him.

The thought that his cock and balls might actually explode flitted briefly among all the other rather more pleasurable thoughts in Daryl's mind as he plunged deep into her soft, warm mouth, and he had to still his movements and pull back a little.

"Ash, fuck!" he warned in a strangled whimper from the back of his throat, "...wanna come in ya, Sweetheart."

Strong hands pulled her up, gripping her hips as he gently – as gently as he could manage anyway, with his body malfunctioning everywhere but in the Pants Department – maneuvered her to sit astride his hips. Shifting slightly, he angled the leaking tip of his cock at the slick, pink lips between her thighs.

"Gonna' ride me, sweetheart?" he gasped quietly as, slowly, he lifted his hips to ease himself up into her, and she lowered her hot, wet heat down to slide down around him.

"Aww, that's so good," he groaned "wanna watch ya come on top of me, Ash."

Daryl watched Aisling as they moved together, his eyes trying to focus on every inch of her body at once.

He thrust up into her slowly at first. The motion made Aisling's soft, full breasts jiggle and bounce above him. He couldn't help the little smirk on his lips as his hands cupped those irresistible tits… kneading… tweaking… squeezing… caressing Aisling's pale, supple flesh.

Here he was, Daryl Dixon, nuts deep in Aisling O'Brien in a New York hotel room, and if that wasn't enough to make his inexperienced redneck head spin, he loved her, and – amazingly – she loved him too

They fit together _just right_ , like they were made to go together, like two jigsaw puzzle pieces.

 _Fuck. Well if that ain't like some kinda'_ made-to-be _shit, right there._

His right hand slipped down from her breast to her clit then, and he moved his fingers on her just the way he knew she liked it, pressing his middle and index fingers down to move in a gentle rhythm in that warm, wet heat.

Coaxing her body into coming undone.

"Gonna come all over me, Ash?" Daryl gasped as he felt the heat of her contract around him.

_She's so tight, so wet, so fuckin' beautiful._

They rocked together, fingers clenching into each others' flesh, breath heavy and faltering as the sensations of their lovemaking surged through their bodies.

It was as if somebody had hit the pause button on Daryl, and time stood still as white light and pure unadulterated pleasure erupted inside him as his orgasm thundered through his body to pulse deep into Aisling.

Almost simultaneously, Aisling came completely undone above him, eventually sinking down to lay on top of him where she pressed soft, exhausted kisses against his neck.

As soon as his arms worked enough to be able to move again, he lazily tugged at Aisling's body so that her head lay below his on the pillow where he could look at her face properly.

"Love ya' so fuckin' much," Daryl rasped as he used two fingers to gently brush back the strands of her hair which were stuck to her forehead, "always gonna'."

"I love you too, Daryl," Aisling punctuated her statement with a gentle kiss to his lips and smiled down at him "You're my lobster."

Daryl jerked his head up to look at her, a look of confusion on his face.

"Did you never watch Friends?" she asked, incredulously, wondering how someone had gotten through the millennium without hearing Phoebe's quote.

Daryl shrugged, and pushed Aisling's damp hair away from her face as he wondered what the fuck she was talking about.

"Apparently, lobsters mate for life," she whispered, all quiet, as she looked up at him, those big green eyes shining up at him in the dawn light "so… you're my lobster."

*.

Two hours later, and, save for a quick visit to the bathroom each, neither Daryl nor Aisling had put one foot outside their hotel bed.

Daryl had huffed that he was happy to piss in the sink while she used the toilet because it saved time, but didn't really understand why Aisling was so aghast at the idea and had sprinted naked into the bathroom alone, locking the door behind her.

When he returned from his solo trip to the bathroom after her, muttering "s'only piss" under his breath, Aisling was waiting, spread out and gorgeous on the bed, distracting him from his grumblings.

Daryl thought she was just as pretty as could be.

_Like a fuckin' picture._

He stopped in his walk to the bed and took a moment to just look at her. His eyes trailed slowly along her body, from the tips of her coral painted toes, to the emerald green eyes which shone out brightly in the morning light.

Daryl's eyes drank in the bubble-gum pink nipples that had flushed darker from the recent attention from his tongue, and the shine on Aisling's lips as they curved up into a little smile, just for him.

_My girl's a fuckin' work of art._

If Daryl could paint, he'd whip out a canvas and palette and get straight to work, capturing this beautiful creature for all eternity.

If he could take photographs like Aisling he'd get his camera and… hang on just a minute...

The cogs of Daryl's brain whirred as his eyes dragged slowly back down along Aisling's body, making his thoughts intriguing to her.

Before she had a chance to ask him what it was that was occupying his mind so, he slowly, casually, crawled up her body so that their heads were together on the pillow again, and whispered "Wanna get your camera?" in her ear.

Daryl was trying to appear simultaneously both very interested in the idea of photographing his lover naked, and not at all interested in the idea, just in case he'd seriously misjudged Aisling and what her reaction to his suggestion that they take some dirty pictures together might be.

Aisling didn't say anything as she reached out to the bedside locker for her phone, but did try unsuccessfully to bite back the smile that curled her lips up happily as she handed it up to her sweaty, disheveled lover.

She loved it when Daryl opened up, and let his kinks out.

He'd revealed few in their time together, but Aisling just knew that there were more bubbling under the surface of her gruff, quiet man.

"This thing do video?" Daryl asked, as he poked about at the controls on the phone with a very confused look crumpling his brow.

"Are you seriously all set to go _again_ , already? And _on_ _film_?" Aisling whispered incredulously as Daryl ground his stiffening cock into her thigh while he fumbled about with her phone settings.

"Can't help it," he paused to suck at her lips for a moment. "Ya' do somethin' to me, an' if I get to watch this when we ain't together, then I'm all set for jerk-off material for the next couple of years."

*.*

Aisling exhaled slowly and leaned her head down against Daryl's sweaty chest, listening to the frantic beat of his heart inside his body.

They were both shaking… breathless, and happy. Neither of them had a functioning bone between them.

"You did your Yoda voice again," she whispered as he gently sucked one of her earlobes into his mouth.

Daryl paused, and pulled away briefly to glance her, then snorted.

"Shut up. Don't sound like fuckin' Yoda when I come."

"You do, sometimes! Him or Kermit. Definitely something Jim Henson-ey."

Daryl huffed a breath of hot air out against the tingling skin of her neck, and raised his lips up to press soft kisses against Aisling's ear.

"You keep sayin' that," he whispered "an I might just stop doin' this..."

Aisling giggled and rolled so that the weight of Daryl's body was above her again, laying heavily and comfortably between her thighs.

"Stop kissing me you will?" she asked, doing a terrible Yoda impression which made Daryl laugh into her neck despite himself.

"Y'know I was jus' jokin', right?" Daryl mumbled into the air in front of her face, "Ain't ever gonna' wanna' stop doin' this. Love ya, Ash."

*.*

Aisling begrugingly pulled herself out of bed an hour or so later, with a pleasant throbbing between her thighs and a cloud – both in her head, and virtual, thanks to Daryl's enthusiasm with the camera on her phone - full of very NSFW memories.

Daryl groaned and mumbled "Not yet..." as he tried to pull Aisling back beside his body.

"Come back," he whined, and held his arms out for her, flailing them around a bit, and then sighed as he sank back onto the empty bed and honest-to-goodness pouted, like a two year old child.

He lay spreadeagled on the hotel bed, with the sheets sheets tangled around his legs,

He wanted her to stay right there.

Was an appointment with some journalists and a pedimanist… pedimeder… somethin' to do with goddamned toenails or shit like that so fuckin' important?

Daryl idly tugged at his penis as he watched Aisling's naked body leave to go have a shower.

Not two minutes later, he'd sneaked right in there with her, managing to get another thirty minutes in there with her before she left all distracted and late an' panicky, off to meet some journalists at the gallery.

Daryl couldn't help but tug himself off again after Aisling left, watching what they'd recorded together.

_Like a fuckin' teenager. Can't help touchin' m'self an' thinkin' 'bout her._

_Want her touchin' me, an me touchin' her, all the damn time, like a damn pervert_

*.*

Him and Ais had been together over three months now. He couldn't quite believe it, but he had checked the calendar at work which had the pictures of the women strategically holding wrenches over their tits, and it was indeed true.

Chuck, Shaun, and even Corinne, had joked about him and Aisling being almost past the 'honeymoon period', but Daryl had no idea what they were talking about.

"Ain't married," he'd grumbled to one of the guys at work who had made a feeble 'honeymoon period' joke when Daryl had come in ten minutes late one morning.

That earned him a flurry of nervous laughter, as the eight other mechanics wondered whether or not Daryl was being serious or not.

He turned to glare at them all, so some ducked away out of sight, a couple of others looked busy as they shuffled things around on work space, and the rest looked like they wanted to die rather than have to explain things to a bewildered Daryl.

"Whatcha mean?" he growled at Truman, the only one of his colleagues who hadn't had the good sense to look away.

"Well… er..." Truman stumbled over his words as sounds got stuck in his throat, "you know what the Honeymoon Period is?"

Daryl just stared at him.

"Ok, so the Honeymoon Period is wh-"

Daryl huffed "Can everyone stop sayin' Honeymoon fuckin' Period?"

Everyone nodded, so Daryl nodded at Truman to continue.

"So, the Honey… that is commonly referred to as the time when a new couple has the most amount of sexual activity, before it… dies off."

_Been over three months now, an Chuck, Shaun an' even fuckin' Corinne's jokin' 'bout that fuckin' 'honeymoon period', sayin' they's at it like particularly over-enthusiastic rabbits right now, but that'll ease off in time., but I know that aint never gonna be the case._

If anything, the more he touches her, the more his fingers and lips become more addicted to her skin, the taste of her, the feel of her.

_Ain't never happier than when I'm buried deep inside her, and we's all hot, wet mouths an' graspin' hands. An' I'm nudgin' at her, just dippin' the tip of my cock inside her, an' she's all red in the face, moanin' ma name, like it's somethin' fuckin' sacred. Then, when I'm just fuckin' drivin' inta her, an' she's so hot, an' so fuckin' tight an' wet._

"New York's fuckin' busy" Daryl grunted to himself as he successfully crossed the street to Merle and Heather's hotel on the third attempt, while Aisling paid someone to rip all her body hair out, and clip and paint her toenails or something. "Fuckin' cold, too" he pulled the thick coat Aisling had insisted he pack closer around him against the biting wind which whipped down the Avenue and stung his cheeks and nose.

Daryl's head had almost spun round on his shoulders when he found out how much it cost her each time she went to one of those torture chambers she went to, to get hair ripped out of her and all that shit he didn't understand.

He told her she was throwing money away, but she had silenced him with a long, slow kiss, and Daryl couldn't remember what it was he was talking about, and had no real mind to try to remember neither.

He offered to clip her nails himself _for free_ , but she had looked at him as though he'd suggested he wipe her ass for her and shrieked "Jesus, no!" at him, before leaving the hotel room in a nervous flurry of phonecalls and horrified glances at him.

He didn't give a shit if she had stubble on her legs, or if the neatly trimmed strip of hair inside her panties got thicker and blurred around the edges, but apparently Aisling _really_ did, and went to great expense to make sure that the natural, human woman she was remained as hidden as possible.

_Ain't never gonna' understan' women._

_Good Lord knows they all piss, an' shit, jus' like us, an' somehow they think when we take down their panties we're expectin' ta' find some mythical fuckin' creature there, that don't grow no hair, don't sweat, aint never farted, an' smells of goddamned fuckin'_

Daryl would never get enough of the way that Aisling smelt. When he buried his face between her legs he relished each deep inhalation through his nose, filling his head with the scent of her. Whether she was straight out of the shower, smelling of jasmine and cocoa butter or some shit, or she was warm, damp and musky after a day hiking around the woods at their house with him, he loved the scent all the same.

Aisling was all woman, even if she tried to hide it.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments keep me buoyed up and wanting to keep writing when I get stuck, and all I want to do is throw my laptop out of the window. When the words just don't want to come out I often re-read your comments, and the fact that all you lovely people took time to comment spurs me on. I really do appreciate them, especially when I'm finding it hard to write xxx
> 
> While I was struggling with this chapter I distracted myself by teasing out an outline for a Daryl and Aisling ZA story, which will be my next big project, and I'm crazy excited to begin working on it!
> 
> I am hoping that, now I've got this chapter out of the way, the rest will flow more easily. I know what's going to happen for our Actress and our Hunter – it's all mapped out in an outline – so I'd love to see out the conclusion.
> 
> When this story is done, I'll start on Aisling and Daryl's ZA adventures :D


	50. Chapter 50

Daryl hadn't the faintest idea of what to wear for an art show.  
He'd asked Aisling, but she’d airily replied with a “wear what you want! These things are very ‘come as you are’, so don’t worry.”  
Huffing quietly, he’d turned to Google on his phone because it might help him, seeing as how his girlfriend couldn’t be bothered to, and couldn’t even tell that he was nervous about embarrassing either one or both of them.   
Girl’s supposed to love me but can’t even give me a pointer about what kinda shirt to wear. She’s busy n’all, but sheez… give a guy a break.

Life would be a hell of a lot easier for him if she knew that he was thinking… at times. Then, at other times she'd probably whip him into next fuckin' week if she knew all the dirty things he was really thinking about her.

Daryl’s Google search came up with pictures of people wearing everything from evening wear to what he wore when him and Aisling slobbed out on the couch watching Netflix. 

 

He wanted to ask Aisling what exactly she'd meant by her vague little note on Art Gallery Fashion Etiquette, but he was already embarrassed at having to ask her in he first place, and was inwardly annoyed that she didn't somehow get what he was worried about, and jump to his aid.   
She was supposed to love him!   
Couldn't that extend to reading his goddamned mind? 

 

So, Daryl had resorted to calling Merle to ask Heather for advice. Eventhough Daryl wasn't her favorite person in the world, she had offered to bring some suitable shirts to New York with her for him to try if he wanted.  
And that’s how Daryl came to be knocking on door 306 of the small, but classy boutique hotel that had obviously been chosen by Heather, not Merle.

“Come in if ya like big Southern cocks!” his brother yelled out with a throaty chuckle from inside.  
Daryl shook his head, sighed and pushed open the door to join his brother inside.

 

*.*

“I took the right fuckin' turn, Heather!” Merle barked out, interrupting as she explained to Daryl how their road trip from Goat Rock to Manhattan had taken an additional three and a half hours longer than it should have. 

“'Next right', you said, an' I took the next damn right!” 

“I said next right, Merle, not this right. Don't you think I would have given you a bit more notice than tell you to turn off on the road we were just passing? You damn near threw me out of the car you spun it into that turn so fast!”.

Heather pulled two packaged dark shirts from her bag on the bed and passed them to Daryl, and winked at him before she turned back to Merle.  
The gesture was half conciliatory, half teasing.

“You took the right turn, at the wrong time, old man.” 

Merle was practically snorting with annoyance, until he caught sight of Heather's smirk in the closet mirror and pursed his lips, and his face quickly softened.   
He reached out and placed his large hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently in place of a verbal apology or acceptance of any blame.

“Hey, less of the old, sweetcheeks. Would have got the right exit if I had even an ounce of faith in your map-readin' skills,” Merle paused to pull Heather close and pressed his lips just behind her ear “'Sides, those tits of yours is too distractin' for me to go analyzin' every word that comes outta that pretty lil' head a' yours.

“Y’all know I’m still here, right?” Daryl grumbled as he awkwardly fingered the plastic sleeves encasing the shirts Heather had brought for him.

Heather giggled as she reached up to curl her fingers around Merle's, and Daryl cleared his throat loudly, turning to stare out the window at the view of another window not ten feet away as he shoved the shirts under his coat and got ready to leave.

“Gonna go, Merle! See you an' Heather later, 'kay?”

Daryl heard a half-hearted reply   
“If you’re lucky, baby brother,” Merle shouted the clarification over his shoulder before he hoisted Heather up over his shoulder with a loud grunt, and strode off towards the bed, with Heather squealing giddily as they went. 

Accustomed as he was to having Merle's sex life thrust, sometimes literally, in his face, Daryl didn't take any offense from his and Heather's amorous display.   
Hell, him and Aisling were just as bad when the notion took them.  
So he shrugged, and left to make his way back the few blocks to his and Aisling's hotel.

*.*

 

 

The Daryl who saw in this past New Year resigned to his life and what little he imagined lay ahead of him, rather than hopeful for it's future with a promise of what could be, would have laughed at the idea that by the end of the year he would be standing in some fancy New York hotel room, while his hot actor girlfriend showered in the adjoining bathroom, with the door left open so he could enjoy the sight of warm water cascading over her naked body, as they got ready to attend her art exhibition.

The Daryl who now found himself plunged into this unexpected, and unnerving, change of circumstances as he stood in front of the mirror in the soft, dark shirt Heather had given him, had a mini freak-out.  
Not because he didn't want this, but because he did want this.   
He wanted this so much he found it hard to even think about it, because he'd get a lump in his throat when he spent too much time dwelling on the rib-crushing, gut-clenching, stomach-flipping feelings that enveloped him when Aisling was near, and when he thought about the possibility of her not being near any more.

The Daryl of last year would have ran. Hell, the Daryl of this past July would have been positively skittish at the prospect of the evening that lay ahead of him.  
This Daryl though… he took a deep breath.  
He fixed the buttons on his shirt, cast another glance through the bathroom door at the woman he loved, and exhaled slowly and deeply.  
He could do this.

 

*-*

On the car ride to the gallery Merle quizzed his brother about the flight, asking if he 'was shitting his pants' and whether or not Daryl and Aisling had joined the Mile High club.

“What's the Mile High club?” Daryl quietly asked, innocently, while Heather swatted Merle with her hand and grumbled “We could have done that, instead of driving halfway round Virginia!”.

“When people have sex on an airplane, that's called joining the Mile High Club.”

“An' we didn't do that?” Daryl whispered to Aisling “why not?”

“You were kind of distracted, sweetheart. You couldn't breathe, nevermind have sex.”

Daryl fixed her eyes with a stare “on the way home, we're totally gonna do that.”

“Looking forward to it already...” Aisling whispered in his ear, then turned and whispered “Oh fuck, there’s my Mum”.

Daryl turned his head as the cab slowed to a halt at the curb outside the gallery, to see a statuesque brunette woman, dressed head to toe in black, posing for a small clutch of photographers on the sidewalk.

As Merle and Heather got themselves out of the cab, Aisling turned to Daryl. Her eyes were large and panicked.

“I hadn’t thought about her being here! It’s going to be nerve-racking enough as it is. And she’s here! Oh God, Daryl… what do-”

Daryl cut her off with a kiss, soft and quiet in the darkness of the back of the cab.

“Gonna be fine, Ais. Gonna be right here, an’ everything’s gonna be jus’ fine, ‘kay?”

Aisling nodded, and smiled up at Daryl, rubbing her nose against his.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“An’ I love you,” he replied, placing one last soft kiss on the tip of her nose “now g’wan out there an’ kick some ass.”


End file.
